Libby Baker Sweiger

Weaver of Everyday Tales

Archive for the category “God”

18 Nov 2011
4 Comments

Pause for Prayer

Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
The LORD is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
and his understanding no one can fathom.
29 He gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak.
30 Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;
31 but those who hope 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 be faint. Isaiah 40

Mike and I

Mike is having surgery today and I am calling upon the Lord. Not because the surgery is dangerous, it’s routine hernia surgery, but because Mike is my true north. He is what guides my day after I get my marching orders from my Lord. He is whom I live to please and the love of my life. He is also not usually the patient. For many years, I have been the patient and he has been the caregiver. Now the roles will be reversed for a little while. I hope I can be half or more as kind and loving as he has been to me. As patient and as much of a servant. As truly giving and caring and with me in sickness and health. It’s so easy to be with someone in health.

Tomorrow, I will be the one waiting and praying. I am praying for strength now to be as good as waiting on the Lord as my dear Mike has been for me. I love this verse, “…those who hope 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 be faint.”

I hope in the Lord for fast healing and great results for Mike tomorrow. For total restoration of his body and reinforcement of the hernia, his old Junior High one that “blew out” the doctor said. Lovely description! Reinforcement of stitches and the new mesh they use to make him stronger than before!

I entrust my life, my soul mate into the hands of the surgeon, into the hands of the Lord for safekeeping tomorrow that he will be restored to me better than new and that I will be a good nurse and helper I pray!

Thank you Lord, for the wonderful husband and help you have given me. Help me to be a great wife and the same good help to him tomorrow and in the coming days. Thank you!

Posted in bestfriend, Christianity, Family, God, Hope, Husband, Love
17 Nov 2011
16 Comments

A Dwelling Place

“You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it himself. (Quoted by C.S.Lewis in Mere Christianity)”

Some days you wonder at the discomfort of it all. God seems to be doing some major rearranging inside. Not just tweaking a good quality here to make it better, or goosing this bad quality to make it a bit more scarce. No he is ripping up floor boards and tearing down ceilings in your mind and heart. He is making of you a fit residence for the King of Kings. If this sounds painful it is. And disquieting.

This all reminds me of a story when Mike and I first got married. We were living in a beautiful old home in Northeast Minneapolis. It was structurally and to an artist’s eye, lovely, the artist being me. It had not been renovated, it had been remodeled. Mike thought it was fine. Frankly, I hardly noticed it until I moved into it after we were married. I then began ripping down the false lowered ceilings and the cheap paneled walls. I had Mike’s permission and he helped diligently. One day he said to me in a surprised tone, “I thought you liked this house.” I did and continued to, while restoring it to its former beauty. I loved the house. That is why I wanted it to look as beautiful as it was meant to look. And why I wanted it to be a true home for us.

Perhaps that is how Christ feels when He first comes to dwell in us. This is a beautiful place, now to make it a home. First this wall of rebellion must come down, it is blocking the view of the garden. Secondly, this paneling of false pride needs to be removed so we can see an honest heart for others beating beneath it.

I know there is a lot more work that my Lord needs to make on my dwelling place before he is completely comfortable living there. He needs to remove sins of selfishness and willfulness and pride and make the furniture tender-hearted to receive Him graciously at all times. My prayer is that I will surrender to His workmanship inside of me. That I will allow Him to make a palace in my heart for Him to dwell, unencumburred by the thorny wild growing bushes of my own will. Join me, will you? Thanks, my friends!

Posted in Christianity, God, Hope, Love
12 Nov 2011
18 Comments

The Arrival

The Mother’s Ring on my hand, babies Abby and Davey on Mantel

“You’ve gotta dance like there’s nobody watching,
Love like you’ll never be hurt,
Sing like there’s nobody listening,
And live like it’s heaven on earth.”
― William W. Purkey

I love this quote. I saved it for one of the last posts. It is how I try to live every day. I feel the key to loving is to love unrestrained with your whole heart and not let past hurts get in the way. I don’t dance much anymore, this is a good reminder. My daughter’s dog Spunky loved to dance with me to the praise songs on the radio! They both live in Duluth, MN now. I always sing (off-key some say) at the top of my lungs. I am certain living your life as if it were heavenly will give you the attitude to make it so.

My story has almost come full circle. I loved being in my family as a child in whatever form it took. I love my parents, and the extra parents God gave me in the form of ministers, grandparents, uncles and aunts and two dear step moms. Trisha is still with us and loving this family. I have two aunts and an uncle still here. I am so blessed to have my wonderful parents! I am thankful every day that I can call my mom and she still knows me. I call my dad often and we wise crack together, and tell each other I love you.

I am most grateful for my little family. My husband is without a doubt the best in the world. He loves me and spoils me rotten. He made me cheesy eggs this morning even though I overslept and he’d already made and eaten his hours before.

There have been some tough things to endure. My dad says he thinks I’m the strongest of his children. I don’t know about that. The stomach surgery I had in 2010 when my brain swelled afterward was about the worst thing that ever happened to me health-wise. I endured intubation. I was taught by a wise and caring nurse how to breathe with the tube my throat when I started to come out of it. The Lord brought me through that one. Whew!

The very hardest thing for me was losing my babies, Shirley and Davey. If you missed that story you can find it earlier in this blog. I think about them all the time and thank the Lord that I had the privilege of being their mom. Which brings me to today.

It had been a rough week. You know the type these days, groceries not going far enough, gas not lasting long enough, working a project to earn some money and it’s really slow going. Wait. God is with us. Let’s try this again. It was a glorious week! The Lord showed his faithfulness in providing for us in every circumstance.

Today, Saturday was a perfect day. Besides sleeping in and getting cheesy eggs, we went with Mike’s sister Cindy to get a gift for a cousin’s wedding next weekend. We all went for a late lunch together. We always have so much fun talking together. We talked for hours. It was a beautiful sunny, wonder-filled Saturday.

I was tired when we got home, but I remembered to get the mail. There was no mail the day before due to Veterans Day 11-11-11. I brought the mail including an intriguing package in and put it on my kitchen table. I got a scissors and opened it and there was MY MOTHER’S RING! A beautiful ring with the names: Shirley, Davey and Abby etched in it and the birthstones of each of their birth months: October, November and January!

I will never take it off. My life has come full circle. I have my family together, including Shirley and Davey. I am ready for new beginnings. My past has been glorious and challenging, my present is satisfying, productive and expanding the muscles of my heart, the future? Well the future will be in my next book. Thank you so much for listening. Love to all! Libby

Posted in Children, Family, God, Hope, Love and tagged , , ,
10 Nov 2011
10 Comments

Mom Wasn’t Big On TV Watching

As my mother grew older she became more spiritual. Now this is no small thing. She was pretty much a giant in the faith when I was pretty young. She ate up everything in sight in the Congregational Church having to do with God’s word and the teachings of Jesus. She went to bible studies and prayer groups just about every day.

When we came home from school some days the kitchen table was piled high with bibles, concordances, notes and journal jottings. She was not kidding around. She was going to be close to God and that was all there was to it.

Even though she has Alzheimers at 81, you can see the Spirit is still alive and well in her, still shining:

Mom in quiet reflection

She was on fire for God while I was in high school. She could tell if I was up to no good before I could and would be praying for me to change my mind.

One thing she couldn’t abide was TV watching, especially at the dinner table. She said we all turned into mesmerized zombies in front of the screen. I can’t remember which one of us had the guts one night to nudge the TV into the dining room to watch a favorite show during dinner.

Mom had been out all day praying with the women in various bible studies in the new church she was taking us too. They loved Jesus there, but were also very big on the Holy Spirit. I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this, because I don’t remember telling a soul about this night. Now you may chalk all this up to superstitious nonsense, but I’m not one to criticize a fired up mother who believes she has God on her side.

The four of us kids were eating our dinner and watching some lame, but favorite program on the TV we’d smuggled in. In bursts my mom from the kitchen through the swinging door and spots the TV. She shook her hand and the TV and said in a loud voice, “Come out of that television right now devil in the name of Jesus!” The TV went black the moment she said it, a little smoke came out of it and it died on the spot!

Well you never saw four more drop-jawed children in your life. Me most of all. I would laugh now, but I’ve never been able to bring myself to do it when I’m alone. Oh when the four of us have been together we’ve had a chuckle, but never in front of Mom.

She grew in our esteem that night. Our respect knew no bounds. You can argue coincidence or even trickery and I couldn’t prove you wrong. I have no explanation for an exploding old TV set that died on cue. But it tells you something about moms, single ones especially. You can push the envelope with them for just so long and then you’d better toe the line — because they will surely get help from God above to make their point — if you don’t listen to them!

At least, that’s the message I took away from the night. That and that my mom isn’t big on TV watching, especially with dinner!

Posted in Children, Family, God, Mom, Uncategorized
07 Nov 2011
10 Comments

Growing in Faith And Marrying Kind

2 Corinthians 3:18 “But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.”

When I was almost 18 and a senior in High School, we had a Bible Study in our home for kids from my class. We were going to a new church that believed in following the practices and structure of the early church in the bible. We were growing, fueled in part by the Jesus Movement of the 70’s. The above was my very favorite verse. I loved to think about the idea of looking into the face of Jesus, like into a mirror, His word.

A year went by with the focus of my life being the worship at this church, helping my mom with the family and working. It was Spring of my 19th year and I signed up with at my good old Congregational Church to be on the work crew for High Schoolers on their spring ski trip and retreat. I got accepted. This meant I could ski by day and serve meals morning and dinnertime. I could also sit in on the spiritual sessions. I loved every aspect of the trip and participated all I could.

I noticed of one of the counselors on the trip. He spoke at a fireside chat and I liked what he had to say. He seemed very gentle and kind with a good sense of humor, so I asked him if he skied or anything. He said he stayed back with some of the campers who didn’t ski and worked on his teaching when we skied. I noticed up close he was pretty handsome. Well I must have grown on him a little because we road home to Minnesota on the bus together. Turns out he was in charge of the Jr. High drop in center at the Congregational church. And he was studying to be a youth pastor. Within a year we were married.

As you can see I remember our meeting fondly. I remember many things in a good light. But he was a very young man to go through all that we went through — and my heart goes out to him, too. How was he to know how well I would do in my life? My bi-polar on top of the death of our two children frightened him, I think in a time when our country was also in turmoil. At any rate, it is not for me to judge, or try to reason his actions. I have enough to manage taking care of my own.

Every day we have a choice about how we want to view our past and present. How we want to view our future. Are we going to look at our past with mercy and forgiveness for ourselves and others, as the Lord does — without bitterness? Are we going to live our present in love and our future in hope? I am. That is my intention. For I still love the verse,

“But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.” 2 Corinthians 3:18

Posted in Christianity, Family, Forgiveness, friendship, God, Hope, Love
05 Nov 2011
17 Comments

Dad’s Christmas Tradition

“The light of the Christmas star to you. The warmth of home and hearth to you. The cheer and goodwill of friends to you. The hope of a child-like heart to you. The joy of a thousand angels to you. The love of the Son and God’s peace to you.”
― Sherryl Woods, An O’Brien Family Christmas

Christmas at Dad's

Christmas Eve at Dad’s was something to look forward to all year. You may wonder why he isn’t in the photo. He is probably taking it. However, Uncle Dick, his spirited brother is also AWOL. They could be recovering from their wrestling match.

Wrestling match? Now what does that have to do with Christmas, you may wonder. It’s a Baker family tradition. It was born out of the belief that Christmas is about children and giving them the best possible Christmas ever. One year, to our collective delight, my dad and Uncle Dick started rough housing right in the middle of Betty, my step mom’s impeccable decorations. We all squealed and laughed and clapped. It evolved into a wrestling match. And became a family Christmas Eve tradition. Uncle Dick usually won. When you consider he had at least a 60 pound weight advantage on Dad, was unbelievably strong and nearly 6 feet tall, my dad’s height — it’s not too surprising. But the sight of them was! They looked like two big bears rumbling around the living room. As I look back, I think their faces were red from the exertion involved in missing everything they could have hit, including their spell bound audience, and in not hurting each other! We laughed uproariously! It was so fun.

Shortly after the wrestling match, we were so wound up. Suddenly, there was the sound of sleigh bells coming from the roof. It’s Santa we all yelled! The excitement level in the room escalated. We all ran into the living room where the tree was to see that it was surrounded knee deep in presents. What lucky kids we thought, Santa visited us at our Dad’s and at our Mom’s.

On a side note. In this picture I was in 9th grade and too old to believe in Santa Clause. The babies in the picture are my darling sister Sara next to Scott on the floor, and my cousin Julie is in the back being held by my sister Suzy. Betty, the lady on the far left in beige and gold — is my lovely step mom and Sara’s mom. The lady in the red skirt is Marlys, Julie’s mom, Uncle Dick’s wife. In the back standing on the left is my wonderful Grandma Dorothy who my father says I am like, and my grandfather Pop is on the right, Dad’s dad.

What a beautiful blended family we were and we didn’t even know it!
We adjourned to a wonderful dinner, lots of conversation, and more laughter. I always love a party where wrestling matches, the entertainment of children, and general frivolity come before dinner. 🙂

We played with our gifts. We checked with Dad and Betty and Sara to make sure they liked theirs and finally said our goodbye to the Baker family Christmas. Oh, how would we wait another year? Dad drove us home. We were quiet and sleepy in the car. When my dad is happy he gets the urge to sing. He sang Mack the Knife to us, our favorite of his many renditions. What a treat! What a perfect evening!

Found! A picture of the Happy Wrestlers! Dad and Uncle Dick!

Posted in Christmas, Dad, Family, God, Grandparents, Love
04 Nov 2011
21 Comments

Christmas Mom-Style

“The best of all gifts around any Christmas tree: the presence of a happy family all wrapped up in each other. ”
— Burton Hillis

My Beautiful Regal Mom's Last Card 2009. Alzheimers, Still Knows Her Kids!

If my mom missed us on Christmas Eve, she never said so. We were over at my dad’s having an uproariously good time which I will tell you about. My mom stayed home alone on Christmas Eve and wrapped our gifts. She always built a fire in the fireplace for us to come home to. And made popcorn for us in a big wooden bowl with matching little bowls and hot chocolate. We all got to open a gift from her that night and we always knew what it would be: our new jammies.

We loved coming home on Christmas Eve to our cozy house and Mom. She loved Christmas and the whole biblical history of the night. Our crèche was out by the fireplace, our tree was decked out beautifully, a real one despite my mom’s allergies.

We would hug and all tell our story of being at dad’s and show mom our presents. She would exclaim over each one. Then we would open our Christmas Eve present from her and rush to put them on. We would all sit together by the fire and drink cocoa and mom would read the bible, about the very first Christmas. We would huddle together and drink in the warmth of the fire, hot chocolate and love. There weren’t any other presents around the three, for Santa hadn’t come yet.

Soon we’d say our good nights, hugs and kisses and go to bed. Mom stayed downstairs for a while. The next morning couldn’t come fast enough. We all had to wait at the top of the stairs until my grand parents arrived. They came with more presents perhaps, we couldn’t really see them, but I knew them so I’d say so! When we got the word — the four of us would charge down the stairs and into the living room for Christmas morning…It was beautiful, breath-taking.

Our stockings were stuffed and we opened them first. Santa had been generous (they were my mom’s favorite part!) And my grandparents brought more love into the house so that it was bursting with it. More gifts to spoil us with, their great smiles and laughter so that our Christmas morning overflowed with it.

Soon my grandmother left to go home to the huge turkey she had in the oven, my grandfather her always gentlemanly escort by her side. Later that day would be Christmas dinner with our wonderful matching cousins and more merriment than the heart could hold!

Posted in Children, Christianity, Christmas, Dad, Family, God, Grandparents, Love, Mom
31 Oct 2011
9 Comments

Spinning On The Brule River

“People travel to wonder
at the height of the mountains,
at the huge waves of the seas,
at the long course of the rivers,
at the vast compass of the ocean,
at the circular motion of the stars,
and yet they pass by themselves
without wondering. ”
― Aurelius Augustinus

My Dad Can Handle a Canoe

My dad was a great outdoorsman. Being raised in the great open country of South Dakota, he couldn’t stand being in a city for long. He’d have to go camping, fishing, or canoeing. One of them or all three. Of course, being a family man he’d take Suzy and I with him. Billy was still too young for the adventures, poor kid, so was Scotty.

I remember our trip into Wisconsin. We set up camp and it started to rain. We were all cozy and snug in our tent, having already eaten and had our fire. I love to watch my dad build a fire. And I loved to sleep in a sleeping bag. Suzy and I could snuggle and sleep in the same grown-up bag and stay very warm.

It was fun to camp with dad. He would tell us stories, not ghost stories. My dad hated what he called spook stories. He told us stories of his growing up with our Uncle Dick his little brother and his mom, Grandma Dorothy. His little brother was a big kid and a scrappy fighter. So he held his own if my dad and he ever fought. My dad always told these stories smiling and laughing so you knew it was all in fun and no one ever got hurt, except the time Dick got mad at my dad and threw a tin can at him in the back alley and cut his head open. We would squeal when he told us that because he told it with such good humor. He said he wasn’t mad at his brother. But the next night at dinner he thew a fork at him and it stuck in his fat cheek — wobbling up and down. Then we’d laugh uproariously because Dad was laughing until a tear came down his cheeks.

This may have been a tall tale, I don’t know. It’s hard to imagine two brothers who loved each other like my dad and Uncle Dick could ever carry on like that, but boys are different, so I don’t know. We sure laughed!

The next day we were going to take our canoe downstream to fish. We got up nice and early, had our breakfast and started on our way. Suzy and I were of course wearing life jackets. The water was a little high. We were in Wisconsin and I don’t remember if we knew how much rain they’d had that Spring or not. We were about half way there and our canoe hung up on a rock. We were caught pretty good. Dad was in the center, I was in the back and Suzy was in the bow. We started spinning on the rock. It was kind of like a ride in an amusement park, but a little scarier, because it was real. Dad said, “Poncho, Cisco, Hang on tight. I’m going to have to get out of the canoe for a minute and lift us off of this rock. Libby, you watch your little sister.” He used our pet names so we knew it was an adventure.

It sounded okay to me. I noticed Suzy’s eyes were a bit wide, so I waved at her. As I have said before, I have never felt fear in the presence of my dad and I didn’t that day. He gently eased himself out of the canoe. The water was deep. I was surprised by that. It was almost to his chest.

Then Dad asked us to lean our weight to middle of the canoe. Which we did, schrunching forward until we could touch our feet and hold on tight. He grabbed it in the middle and at the bow and worked with the water and pushed, pulled and lifted. We were off the rock! We were no longer spinning on the Brule River. We were moving, because my dad had the boat and he was taking us to shore.

When we got to shore we laid in the sun. My dad dried off a bit and took of his wet shirt. We just laid there and enjoyed the beauty of that early summer day. I always felt close to God on these excursions with dad. The beauty and power of His creation all around us.

We decided to fish right there and then bring the canoe back up to the car and head home a bit early. We were all in the mood to lay our eyes on Mom and Billy and by that time, little Scotty. They were happy to see us, too and to hear all about our adventure.

I thought that day my dad could to anything. As I got older my opinion didn’t change much. If it’s humanly possible, or even requires some help from God, Dad can do it. Because he tries. He loves his children and he looks out for them. He leads from the heart. He’s the same kind of grandfather as he is a father and we are all so fortunate to have him. Love you, Dad!

Posted in Children, Dad, Family, God, Love and tagged , , , , ,
29 Oct 2011
11 Comments

O Christmas Tree!

I love Christmas! To me it is a magical time of year. It always has been. The birth of baby Jesus — Savior of the world tops everything and is truly the reason for the season — but I’d like to talk about Christmas’ trappings for a bit. The little things that make a child’s Christmas never-to-be-forgotten. My dad was the master of Christmas magic! First of all we never went to a tree lot. From the time I was very young, old enough to walk through the snow and have dad carry Suzy on his shoulder we went out and chopped down our own tree.

Now maybe this was a common occurrence in those days for many people in rural Minnesota, but we were the only ones in our suburb carrying out this ritual. We had to drive a long distance to get to a tree farm. It was a long Dad Hike to find a tree worthy of our living room and decorations. It had to be magnificent! It was such an adventure every year. We waited with such anticipation and enjoyed every second of the day spent with my tall, handsome, knew-how-to-chop-down-a-tree dad!

We didn’t look at any of the little trees. They were not to be disturbed on the tree farm. We walked past them all until we found a tall one with a wider trunk. My dad knew the names of all the kinds of trees and just the kind we liked. Norway pines. They were a very pretty green and had long needles. They lasted a long time.

Finally our quest was over. My dad had spotted our tree! We ran over and found a good sized tree covered in snow. I held Suzy’s hand and we stood back. My dad took his ax out and started to chop down the tree. Now it’s a very easy matter to cut down a tree properly and push it the direction it should go when it’s time for it to topple. And my dad knew exactly how to do it. He would never risk knocking a tree over on one of his children, so it’s hard to imagine where they get this stuff they put in the movies. But I never felt any warnings of danger or mishap when my dad was around!

Soon Suzy and I were standing back further and Dad was giving the tree a nice little shove. TIMBER!!!!! We all yelled (the most fun part!) and down came our Christmas tree. Dad laid down parallel to the tree to measure 6 feet and then added a bit more in length for our living room. On cue Suzy and I followed suit and began making show angels. A small snowball fight and many giggles followed. Then back to the business of cutting the tree to the right length, tying a rope on the trunk and wrapping it around the branches so we could pull it back to the car.

When we got home after singing merrily in the car it was time for hot cocoa and Billy and Mom to join in the decorating after we untangled the lights and got the tree in it’s stand. Still my job to this day!

“Never worry about the size of your Christmas tree. In the eyes of children, they are all thirty feet tall.”
― Larry Wilde

Our Tree and Us

Posted in Children, Christianity, Christmas, Dad, Family, God, Love and tagged , , , ,
26 Oct 2011
11 Comments

Nothing To Fear

In the Depths God is There by Mark Chatwin

When we were kids we believed in things that go bump in the night. We had our dad check under our beds for the boogey men. Not every night, but some nights when TV was too scary or 2nd grade too overwhelming. And there was an old wives’ tale going around that said if you were falling in your sleep and didn’t wake up before you landed you would die. Now I believed that one for sure. I don’t know what reliable soul told me that one, but I believed it. I fell in my dreams, but I always woke up before I landed. Whew! I’d think to myself and go back to sleep. I used to dream all the time I could fly too. I had bad dreams, but also very fun, freeing, wonderful dreams.

Now I’ve mentioned that I was very ill with bi-polar disorder when they first discovered it. Probably because my boy Davey was very sick and I had to keep him going. I used all my physical and emotional stores to care for him, so that when the illness hit me, I didn’t have a lot left to fight it with. It hit me hard. And then little Davey died after I’d been in the hospital about 1 month or so. With that to absorb I got worse. I had excellent care, and many people loved me and were praying for me. Yet many days it felt like I was fighting very hard and going nowhere.

Before I got sick my favorite Psalm was 139 and when I was feeling really bad I would recite it to myself, as much as I could remember:

Psalm 139
1 O lord, thou hast searched me, and known me.
2 Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thought afar off.
3 Thou compassest my path and my lying down, and art acquainted with all my ways.
4 For there is not a word in my tongue, but, lo, O LORD, thou knowest it altogether.
5 Thou hast beset me behind and before, and laid thine hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot attain unto it.
7 Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence?
8 If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there.
9 If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea;
10 Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.
11 If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me; even the night shall be light about me.
12 Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee; but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike to thee.

One night I was lying in my bed trying to sleep. Sleep was the hardest thing for me, because it was hard for me to quiet my mind and get peaceful. I was just lying there fretting about this and that. All of a sudden, I heard the still small voice within me say “let go”. Let Go? That isn’t right I’ve gotta fight this thing. Persistently the thought was there, “Let Go.” Finally I let myself relax and inwardly say okay. Suddenly I felt myself falling fast and hard not like in a dream, more like in a horror flick. I thought, oh no I’m going to die. I’m not ready to die. I don’t want to die I want to live, please Dear God, let me live. I kept falling and falling and falling. Then I landed, not hard, but soft and gently. And I didn’t die, nor did I feel awake. I felt surrounded by the warmest, strongest, most all-encompassing, dearest love I had every felt or even imagined. I knew it was the amazing love of God.

Then it struck me I had hit the very depths and God was there. I had gone as low as my soul could go, and God was there surrounding me his love. And then I knew like the Psalmist, that I could climb to the highest heavens and descend to the deepest depths and no matter where I went the love of God would be there before me. “If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost part of the sea, even there will thy had lead me and thy right had will hold me.” I was sick, but I was no longer afraid.

My doctors said that from that night forward, I started to get well. They didn’t need to tell me, I knew I was, but it was very nice to hear.

Posted in God, Love and tagged , , , , ,

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