Mom
Thirty-seven years ago on August 11, my mom left her worn out body and moved to Heaven. She was still young (in terms of dying, at least), not even to her mid 60’s, but she simply wore out. A lifelong smoking habit (which she stopped cold turkey with great difficulty a few years prior) had taken its toll on her lungs. In turn, to keep breathing, she became dependent on steroids, and they had taken an unseen toll on some of her other internal organs.
A week before she passed, she underwent a simple procedure to remove her ovaries. The concern we had at the time was that the pain she had been experiencing may have been cancer, but we received the post-op “all-clear”—the removed ovaries were simply calcified; and we rejoiced.
The next afternoon, however, my dad called. “Come home right away. Your mother is dying.”
I called my friends, Jack and Mary, who I knew would pray with me about it. I slept on their couch that night after praying with them so I could make the four-hour drive to Springfield, MO in daylight.
That August morning, Springfield was gloomy and dank; the sun was nowhere to be seen. I parked at the hospital and found Mom in her room with my dad sitting beside her bed, concern etched on both faces.
Later that day as my dad was holding her hand, she said to us, “Let me go!” Dad quickly pulled his hand away, and she said emphatically, “No! Hold my hand but let me go! I want to go to Heaven!”
The next day after tests, the team had discovered the problem: while removing the ovaries, they had accidentally perforated her small intestines (according to the team, they were tissue paper thin due to her continued use of steroids), and they were decaying within her at the rate of an inch per hour.
As soon as an operating room was available, she was whisked away for emergency surgery. She never regained consciousness and remained in a coma for two more days before she died.
My friend Betsy showed up to support me while Mom was unconscious. I will never forget how graciously she spoke to my mom about what a wonderful mother she had been for me, how she had instilled a love of nature and good character into me. I watched my mom’s face as Betsy spoke to her and saw a tear roll down her cheek. Speak kindly and speak encouragingly to those you love who are seemingly unconscious. They will likely hear you. Let your words be life to them as Betsy’s were.
When Mom passed, I was exactly half her age; I was the age she was when she gave birth to me.
I knew she went to Heaven. Although she never spoke much about her faith, she made it very clear one day while listening to a debate between my ex-brother-in-law and me. He contended that Jesus was merely a good man; He never was supposed to be an object of faith. Of course, I disagreed and was diving into the argument.
Then my mom interrupted us. She spoke with calm confidence and said something to the effect of “You know, I never really raised my kids to believe the way Dorothy does, but she is right. Jesus is the only way to God the Father.” It was a mic drop moment, and the topic changed.
I had two very unusual experiences as well before that sad week in August that showed me, first of all, that God was ordering my steps, and second, that my mom was indeed Heaven-bound.
You see, I had been planning an exciting vacation to start the first week of August with my friend Ellen. We were going to drive down the Gulf side of Florida and up the Atlantic side, alternately camping out and staying in motels until time or money ran out. But during the last two weeks of July a sense of gloom and anxiety started growing so much that whenever I prayed about the trip, I felt nothing but dread. It was like I was being tackled in my spirit. I had to break the news to my friend that I didn’t know why, but I could not proceed with our planned trip.
On August 11, when Mom died, Ellen and I would have been somewhere camping on a beach. And since there were no cell phones back then, no one would have been able to reach me. God wanted me by my mom’s side and “tackled” me in that unusual way to make sure I would be there.
The second unusual experience happened the day before her “simple” surgery. I felt rotten. My throat was sore, and my head and body were aching, telltale signs of flu. I went to bed that night still bummed about missing my “dream vacation” and sick as could be.
In the middle of the night as I slept, I dreamed that someone was praying for me. The love I felt as they prayed in a heavenly language while placing their hands on my aching shoulders and back, was tangible. I turned around in my dream to see who this amazing person could be, and there she was—my mom. Now understand, in all my years with her she never prayed with me, but that prayer was so real, so powerful, and so full of love I wept in my sleep.
And in the morning, I woke up 100% well. She had prayed in my dream, and the signs of a believer had followed her. (See Mark 16:17 and 18.)
As I remember that impactful time, although the sadness was raw and real, the sense of utter peace and comfort was every bit as real to me as well. I know I will see my mom again. ❤
Dorothy
Read MoreEncountering trials
I cracked open my Bible today to James 1. This section jumped right out at me:
Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. James 1:2-4
Consider it all JOY?? If you are anything like the various people I’ve been keeping up with, your life is getting hit from all sides with varying levels of agitation, piles of distraction, a suffocating sense of cabin fever, perhaps overwhelming grief or loneliness, concerns about finances and health, and the creeping helplessness of uncertainty. I could list all of the things hitting me, but your list is probably longer and more intense! HELP!
But when I gazed on that phrase, consider it all joy, it brought a smile to my face and a sense of relief to the pit of my stomach. Oh, yeah!! I remembered. God is capable of helping me through all of this!
Yup. The trials are here. We are all encountering them, big and small, piled up and weighing us down with all the typical symptoms of stress and anxiety. That means every one of us qualifies for this James 1 exhortation, and the good news is this: We will emerge on the other side of every one of these trials!
You and I may not see instant results, though. That’s OK, because the main ingredient in making it successfully through any trial that hits you (next to leaning hard on Jesus) is ENDURANCE. Perseverance. Not giving up. Knowing that this trial—and all of these trials—will be behind you at some point.
You have made it through past trials. God steadied you, covered you, assisted you…He was there with you back then; He is with you now. He is faithful. That is what you nail your endurance to—His faithfulness to you. Bind yourself to that Rock with the good sturdy rope of Truth and refuse to untie it. He will see you through every one of these tests, both great and small. He loves you.
As you hunker down in tight proximity with Him, endurance will be working on your behalf by the hand of God. Oh, so subtly, but oh, so thoroughly, endurance will have its perfect work. You will make it through Trial 1. You will make it through Trial 2. You will make it through Trial 3….and all the rest of those attacks against your peace, your health, your finances, your sanity, your loved ones, and maybe even your very life.
Most of all, though, you will have walked through this season—perhaps while feeling like a total loser—choosing to fix not only your gaze but your entire being as well on the Capable One who loves you and is willing to hold you close. As you do, my friend, you will find at the end of this onslaught of piled up trials, that you will be perfect (as opposed to destroyed) and complete, lacking nothing.
May God, the Capable One, help all of us.
Dorothy
© 2020, Dorothy Frick
Read MoreThe good fight of faith
Setting your compass aright
If you’re anything like me, you get distracted all too often. Not too long ago, I sat at my computer from morning until late afternoon, only to break away to eat, feed the cats, and use the restroom.
And what did I have to show for my time? I had commented on several Facebook posts, I joined an online “I ♥ Cats” club; I watched several cat videos; I stumbled onto some “prepper” sites; I learned about homemade compasses; I caught up on the latest political conspiracies; and some stiffness in my spine and “sitter” returned. Productive. Yeah, right.
Needless to say, I was a tad disgusted with myself (although I was pleased with the “likes” and comments I received on the post and pic of an old cat I once owned); so when I drove to church that evening for a prayer meeting, I was telling myself and the Lord, “Something’s gotta change! Help!”
In these particular prayer meetings, my pastor gives us about a half hour or so to pray on our own before we come together as a group, so there I was, still irritated at myself for allowing technology to so perniciously consume my time and my life. Therefore, as I walked the sanctuary I continued my quiet complaint to God. Out of nowhere, I heard this:
“Set your compass aright in the morning, and you will maintain the right direction throughout the day.”
“Set my compass in the morning,” I muttered to myself. “Set my compass in the morning!”
The lightbulb came on. DUH! I thought to myself; my day will go the way I set it first thing in the morning! I knew that; I’ve lived that. But I had gotten sloppy again.
But here’s where my earlier technology marathon came into good use. The instruction I had wandered onto about homemade compasses drove this fresh revelation home.
HOW TO MAKE YOUR DAILY COMPASS IN THE LORD
You see, to make a compass at home, you first need to magnetize a tiny piece of metal. The metal is not a magnet, but by contact with a magnet, it will start acting like one. You do this by rubbing a bit of wire or a needle against a magnet—rubbing it the same direction several times. Then the metal, which was once not magnetic, is now magnetized, and will, if floated on water, point due north.
You also, as you come into close interactive contact with the Lord each day, will become “magnetized” with a godly magnetism. Remember, a sewing needle is not a magnet, nor are you God. However, with close interaction, that needle acquires a measure of the magnet’s properties, and you acquire a fresh measure of the divine nature.
A magnetized needle will point due north when carefully placed on water, and again, although the needle is not a true magnet, its association with a magnet gives it the ability to be a reliable compass.
You yourself will more likely find true direction easier to access as you daily interact closely with your Father.
And here’s an interesting tidbit about many hand-held compasses that I didn’t know: Most of the traditional ones contain liquid. The reason? The needle moves more smoothly and less erratically when suspended in liquid.
Think about your life. You spend time with God, worshiping and interacting with Him, but for some reason, you may find receiving direction from Him to be a bit erratic for your liking. What do you do? Suspend that needle in some water!
Paul analogized the Word of God to water (see Ephesians 5:26), so follow me as I continue this analogy: Just as the liquid in a natural compass brings smoothness and enhances true direction, so too does daily access to the Word of God, along with worshipful interaction with the Father, stabilize and enhance smooth direction for your life day by day.
“Set your compass aright in the morning, and you will maintain the right direction throughout the day.”
Dorothy
Read MoreConnection
In plumbing, leaks can be caused by loose connections between pipes. And because you and I take it for granted that the connections between the unseen pipes at home are sound, once in a blue moon we are surprised when facing the inevitable—a leak.
In my house, the leak seeped up over the top of the fitting. Somehow the connection had loosened and soundness was compromised. But as quickly as it was discovered it was repaired—the contractor was in the house! Don’t you wish all of the leaks and glitches in your home would occur when a repairman was on the scene? Well, here’s good news—the Carpenter is always in the house!
The leak in the connection between the pipes started me thinking about the closeness of my connection with God. I hate to admit it, but as I look back over the past 39 years of my relationship with Him, I haven’t always maintained a super-tight connection. Don’t get me wrong—once I was born again, I was connected. But sometimes I was content just to appear to have a close connection, while the connection itself had become loose, casual—even sloppy. And upon closer inspection, I can see that the most satisfying times in my life have occurred when I purposefully tightened that connection.
How do you tighten the connection between yourself and God? What tends to loosen it up? What are some of the signs that you need to crank that connection more tightly? And if you’re in Christ and He’s in you, why concern yourself about this connection at all? Isn’t connection with Him a given?
The skinny is this: the connection is perfect on His end; it’s your end that needs watchful oversight, maintenance, and sometimes repair. If there’s any disconnect, it’s on your end.
Remember last week I wrote that I was bombarded by negative thoughts one snowy morning? I ran for refuge that day to a pile of devotionals, knowing in my gut that I would receive direction and help. And interestingly enough, in one way or another, out of every single entry emerged a strengthening, nutritious nugget about—you guessed it—a vital connection with God.
I’ll be writing about what I gleaned that snowy day in the next several blog entries. But tomorrow I plan to backtrack a bit and share a dream that I had sometime last year. You’ll understand why when you read “Connected to the Source”.
Dorothy
“Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it abides in the vine, so neither can you unless you abide in Me.” John 15:4
Read MoreAnother leak
The trim nail was discovered and removed, and the section of copper piping was replaced. Three weeks later, after much running of water to flush out the system, my water tastes free of contaminants. Hallelujah!
But I had a hole in my basement ceiling that needed to be patched. My contractor, a godly man with a good attitude, and who is a craftsman in his own right, came to do the job.
He is no stranger to my herd of cats. Two of them hide from him in the compartments between the floors that he himself created—just for them. You see, two years ago he gutted that whole section of the basement to remove the mold problem which had developed due to earlier plumbing issues under the bathroom sink and tub. He saw that he had wiped out their “get-away” in the demolition, so he crafted an area with four “cat compartments”—complete with trap doors for clean-up purposes—to which the more cowardly among them could flee if so moved. I’m not sure if those cats are grateful for his artistry on their behalf, but they sure know where to go when terrifying repairmen come to work on the house.
The other two could care less about workmen; one is thoroughly disinterested until she’s through with her nap and then pays a visit, but the other—a twenty-pounder—likes to supervise everything that goes on.
Big Rowe was busy overseeing the patch job, Cammie was snoozing, and I decided to check in on Ember and Gideon, hiding in their “crawl space”. I climbed up on a step ladder to peer into their secret compartments between the floors and saw the yellow glow of two pairs of eyes. Ugh, I thought to myself. I haven’t checked up here in a while—it’s covered with cat hair! So as I began the task of de-furring the storage shelves beneath the cat hideaway and the bathtub drain pipe, I withdrew my hand in horror. WATER!!!
Not a new leak! Not now! Not here! I removed the bottled laundry detergents and fabric softeners stored on the shelf directly below the pipe and felt around. Yup—sprung a leak.
“BOB!” I called to my contractor patching the ceiling in the other room. “You’ll never guess what I just found!”
He wasn’t surprised; he said these things happen to him all the time; and as he investigated, he discovered the cause of this new leak. It was coming from a poor connection in the fitting between the bathtub drain pipe and the elbow trap attached to it. He repaired it under the glow of four golden eyes, finished the patch job, and then went on his way.
As I returned to clean up the mess, I was amazed that it wasn’t a big mess. In fact, that leak had just started; only the top shelf had water on it; only a couple of paper towels were needed to mop it up.
And I thought of the goodness of God. This second leak could have slowly dripped for months and months before being discovered, but God revealed it to me right away before any damage—or mold growth—had begun.
And what did He use? A different leak, a patch up job, my relationship with two scaredy cats, and a pile of cat hair. How great is that? Surely our God causes all things to work together for our good—even cat hair!
And just like the Lord used the intruding trim nail to reveal truth to me, He has also shown me some interesting things about the value of vigilantly maintaining good connection.
More on that to come.
Dorothy
And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose. Romans 8:28
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