Oct 28

Do we always get to see everything work for good?

When our youngest daughter Lindsey was a preschooler, her two older sisters could easily ply information out of her concerning upcoming Christmas presents. All they had to do was ask her whether they were getting a certain item and she would give an honest reply–often spoiling my hard work to surprise them.

I was in a quandary. I couldn’t tell her to lie. So I told her that when her sisters asked if a secret gift would be under the tree, she should  reply “maybe, maybe not.”

Problem solved. 

The dilemma I’m trying to solve today is a much weightier one: If God truly works all things together for good, does that mean we definitely will see that happen?  

And I’ve decided my answer is the same as Lindsey’s…maybe, maybe not.

I consider myself extremely fortunate that God has allowed me to see firsthand how He has used my cancer diagnosis for good by giving me three decades of ministry to cancer patients and their caregivers. However, I’m very aware that many others still are waiting to see Romans 8:28 come true. 

And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.

 We often cannot see how what is happening to us or our loved one could ever be used as part of God’s good plan. Our view from inside an earthly trial is limited and distorted. Scripture clearly tells us we don’t have the big picture.

Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely…
1 Corinthians 13:12

However, accepting that truth is not very comforting unless we also believe that an all-knowing, loving God is at work on our behalf.

Many years ago Lindsey, then a recent college graduate, wrote me a Mother’s Day note which said in part: “I didn’t always agree or understand when you said ‘no’ to me, but I never doubted that you loved me.”

That’s what it means to trust. We choose not to doubt that God loves us even if we don’t always understand His ways.

Once we accept that we don’t have the big picture, but a loving God does, we have to walk by faith and not by sight.

I am an extremely skeptical person (which makes me a great newspaper reporter, but an annoying wife), and I always want the facts, the explanation, and the logic before I’ll trust just about anything.

But the Word of God, my compass in life and especially in its storms, tells me that as believers we are different because “we live by faith, not by sight.” (2 Corinthians 5:7). Or as another translation puts it, “That is why we live by believing and not by seeing.”

 And if we don’t have the blessing of seeing in this lifetime how it all works for good, we can be encouraged that we are not the only ones. Hebrews 11 describes incredible heroes of the faith, but don’t miss what verse 13 adds:

All these people died still believing what God had promised them.
They did not receive what was promised, but they saw it all from a distance and welcomed it.

Faithful heroes who believed God’s promises without actually getting to see them come true.

We sometimes need to do the same: continue on not knowing for sure how–or when–it all will work out, but believing He does… and it will. 

Adapted from 50 Days of Hope, copyright 2012 by Lynn Eib
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Oct 14

Out of Control

My friends Jenni and Bill both admit they are planners who like to be in control. But a cancer diagnosis for her and a deployment to the Middle East for him has changed all that.

Their journey to “losing” control began in January 2025 when Jenni, a palliative care nurse practitioner, was diagnosed with kidney cancer. After more testing, the doctors told her there were multiple metastatic liver lesions…probably Stage 4.

Bill, an Air Force reserve major, who also works as a civilian for the Ohio Air National Guard, still tears up when he thinks about his wife’s diagnosis.

“The first week (after the diagnosis) the news just kept getting worse and worse,” he recalls. “That’s when I realized it was out of our hands, the control was out of our hands.”

Jenni felt so desperate that she posted on Facebook, pleading for prayer.

“We got messages from all over the world,” she remembers. “It’s humbling that people are taking your problems to the feet of Jesus.”

Despite their uncertain situation, the couple says they “never felt alone or unsupported” as their church family gathered for a “powerful prayer time” for Jenni.

After her kidney surgery, the couple had to wait 10 days for the final pathology on the liver lesions. When the report came back as benign, one of the physicians declared: “It’s a miracle the liver lesions were not cancer.”

“I truly believe prayers are what healed me,” Jenni adds.

But the physical healing wasn’t the only supernatural touch.

“I can’t even begin to explain the ways my faith was strengthened and refined through the suffering endured after my diagnosis,” she says. “I now describe my faith as ‘unshakable’ as that’s the only word that seems to come close to how I feel in my relationship with God.

“My cancer forced both of us to be in the (situation of) not-knowing and not-in-control.”

Their faith was tested again in April when Bill was deployed to the Middle East.

The couple has faced other deployments together, but Bill acknowledges: “This one was the hardest. With everything we had just gone through–my not being there with Jenni and with (12-year-old daughter) Olivia made this harder.”

It’s been especially difficult to shield Olivia from the war: “When things got hairy over there and Bill’s base was getting bombed, it’s hard to sugarcoat that,” Jenni says.

One of the ways the couple has found to keep their family close is a daily ritual before Olivia goes to bed. It’s 4 AM for Bill, but he gets up and calls his family. Together they read a devotion in Our Daily Bread and take turns praying for the family.

Jenni and my paths first crossed when one of her patients gave her a copy of 50 Days of Hope…3 months before her diagnosis. After the terrible news, Bill came to bed one evening with the book in hand and began reading it to his wife.

“We cried, but hearing other people’s stories gave us hope,” Jenni says. “I remember lying there and thinking ‘I need to get this book into the hands of every patient who walks into (my oncologist’s) office–it’s a light in the dark’.”

Bill and Jenni recently got more bad news when his deployment was extended–canceling his return home originally scheduled for this week. The couple is hopeful he will be back by January, but as he acknowledges: “I’m learning that I’m not in control, that I have to give it all to Him, and trust that whatever the outcome, it is His plan for us.”

Friends, please pray for Bill–and all those soldiers in harm’s way–to be reunited with their families.
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Open in your browser to hear the 4-minute song Control by Tenth Avenue North. © 2016 No Alibis Publishing (adm. by Fun Attic Music, LLC) (SESAC) / Fellow Ships Music (SESAC) / So Essential Tunes (SESAC) (adm. at essentialmusicpublishing.com) / Unsecret Songs (SESAC)

Sep 30

A Messy Diaper and Sore Finger Road

When our  oldest daughter was six months old, we took her on a three-week car trip out West with my parents. She was a model passenger…well, almost.

I had just finished nursing Danielle while riding in the backseat on a lonesome stretch of desert. I was burping her on my lap before putting her back in her carseat when she let loose with more than her disposable diaper could contain. (Did I mention I was wearing white slacks because we were going to eat at the Officers’ Club when we reached our destination?)

My dad stopped on the first side road he saw, so that I could change Danielle (diaper and outfit), as well as wipe off my no-longer-white slacks. And that’s when he noticed the street sign: Sore Finger Road.

It seemed like such a funny name out in the middle of the desert that we all just started laughing. From then on, every messy diaper was judged by whether or not it was “Sore Finger Road” worthy.

Poop happens.

At predictable times, at inconvenient times, sometimes too many times, occasionally not enough times…but it happens.

As a 36-year colorectal cancer survivor, I’m probably a little more obsessed with this topic than most people. But I got the idea to blog about it when I heard songwriter-musician Tim Timmons https://www.timtimmonsmusic.com give his “Poop Happens” talk when we both spoke at a Bob Goff cancer survivor retreat in 2023.

Tim–now a 25-year survivor of stage 4, incurable cancer– described how manure actually is extremely beneficial.

It  softens compacted soil.
It improves crop yield.
It produces oxygen which helps soil breathe.
Adding manure to soil reduces runoff because it “holds together the good stuff and lets the bad stuff go,” as Tim explained.

If you’ve ever driven by farmland in the spring, you probably got a not-so-pleasant whiff of manure doing its job!

But poop doesn’t just happen literally. It happens figuratively too, doesn’t it?

Something occurs in our life–or the life of someone we care about–and it really stinks! As NY Times bestselling author Rick Warren puts it, “Life is a series of problems: Either you are in one now, you’re just coming out of one, or you’re getting ready to go into another one.”

So true!  And if you’re like me, your first response is to want the “stink” gone…and fast!

Tim acknowledges that before cancer, he lived most of his life “trying to stop manure.”

“I was trying to keep my comfort…but now I ask: ‘What’s it revealing about the condition of my heart?'”

Since hearing Tim’s message, I’ve been trying to view the “manure” getting dumped on my life as a way God can soften my heart and help me hang on to the really important, good stuff.

We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance.
 And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation.
—Romans 5:3-4

Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy.
For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow.
–James 1:2-3

How about you, my friend…any “manure-dumping” going in your life? I pray you and I both can allow it to soften our hearts to the goodness of the Lord and in Him find our joy.
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Open in your browser to hear “This is the Day,” a very short, upbeat, encouraging song by Tim Timmons © 2021 Integrity Music . (It’s a perfect song to sing any day…even when “poop happens!”)

 

 

Sep 16

Seen any masterpieces lately?

Despite the fact my mother was a professional artist (and won many awards for her work), I still draw stick figures and will never take an art show prize.

My favorite (and funniest) memory of visiting an art museum with Mom and my girls happened in the summer of 1987 when Andrew Wyeth’s The Helga Pictures were exhibited at the National Gallery in Washington, D.C.

I knew the gallery wasn’t going to be that exciting for our girls, but was committed to keeping them occupied so Mom could enjoy these paintings–only recently revealed to the public, but already quite famous.

Danielle, 9, meandered in the small room, taking an interest in the paintings right away. Bethany, 7, perched on a bench covering her eyes so she couldn’t see any of the unclothed subjects. Meanwhile, the gallery security guard kept a very close watch on 5-year-old Lindsey as she marched right up to every painting which corresponded to a photo in the brochure I gave her and loudly announced: “Match!”

Lindsey really enjoyed herself and when she started kindergarten a couple of days later, insisted on taking the Helga brochure for Show-and-Tell. I was concerned that the teacher might think I put her up to this in an effort to impress, and suggested a favorite stuffed animal instead. But Lindsey was insistent.

Afterwards, she told us she showed her classmates the brochure, adding: “I just said ‘Andrew’ cuz  I didn’t want to say his last name.”

Wyeth’s exhibit is a sweet memory, but doesn’t compare to the thrill I’ve had in seeing some famous artistic masterpieces up close. Van Gogh’s Sunflowers at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Vermeer’s The Milkmaid and Rembrandt’s Night Watch at Amsterdam’s Rijksmuseum. (And we had tickets to see DaVinci’s Mona Lisa at the Louvre before we had to cancel our 2023 Paris trip. )

Between my mom’s and my husband’s artistic talents, my home is filled with original art. My grandkids get art “lessons” from Grandpa and have shown some real talent.

I’m curious what masterpieces you have enjoyed seeing?

Did you know that you can see one every day as soon as you look in a mirror?

The Apostle Paul tells us in Ephesians 2:10 that “we are God’s masterpiece.”

The Amplified Bible says “we are His workmanship [His own master work, a work of art].” The New English Bible describes us as “His creative work” and The Voice Bible adds that “we are the product of His hand.”

I don’t know about you but when I see my reflection in a mirror, “masterpiece” is not the first thought that comes to mind, nor the second, nor the…

One of my hubby’s masterpieces!

But that’s how the Word of God describes me (and you!).

Musical artist and American Idol alum Danny Gokey (whose first wife died when he was only 28) wonderfully describes God’s masterpiece-making process even when our lives feel messy:

“Even though I’m hurtingI’ll let You keep workingYou’re making a masterpieceYou’re shaping the soul in meYou’re moving where I can’t seeAnd all I am is in Your hands”

Personally, I don’t feel like a masterpiece. I have many foibles and downright flaws. My faith is often weak and I easily can get discouraged.

But I do know the Bible is true no matter how I feel. So this non-artistic, almost 73-year-old must be a masterpiece…and so must you, my weary friend.

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Be sure to open in your browser to hear Danny Gokey’s song “Masterpiece” (less than 5 minutes). Masterpiece lyrics © G650 Music, Sony/atv Cross Keys Publishing, Thankful For This Music, Pure Note Music, Songs Of Universal Inc.

 

Sep 02

Celebrating My Favorite Octogenarian!

I vaguely remember when my maternal grandparents turned 80 and somewhat recollect when each of my parents reached that  milestone. But what I distinctly recall is that they all were really old!

So why isn’t my husband old as he hits the big 8-0 tomorrow?

He certainly doesn’t look his age and honestly, he has less physical ailments than I do, even though I’m seven years younger. Despite his youthful appearance and early morning daily workouts at the Y, Ralph acknowledges this birthday feels “tougher” than all the other ones because it “sounds old.”

As I tried to figure out a present which could convey how thankful and proud I am of this guy, I might have mentioned to a few people all over the country that sending a birthday card would be nice.

And I may have colluded with his men’s Bible study so they could gift him a stay at a beautiful resort where he can go fly fishing.

And I conceivably could have a family party planned with all the kids and grands this weekend.

But I want to do something more.

So will you indulge me for a few moments as I celebrate my favorite octogenarian?

My husband was born in Scranton, PA, “just like Joe Biden” as he likes to point out.

He was the only child of older parents. “I think Mom finally proposed to Dad after they dated about 15 years,” Ralph says, adding that he thinks he “might have been the second virgin birth.”

He graduated from Eastern Baptist College near Philly with a student body at the time of  525–about 75 people less than my math class at the Ohio State University.

After a sledding accident in college landed him in the hospital with a concussion, he felt “called” to become a pastor. In May of 1973, I accompanied him to his seminary M.Div. graduation in Massachusetts.  A month later, he proposed.

We only had been dating two months after meeting on a blind date, but we waited a whopping six more months more before tying the knot.

Ralph spent more than 30 years pastoring three congregations, including planting an American Baptist church in 1983, which still serves the Lord today. I wish I’d kept track of all the joyful baptisms he did. And he absolutely does the best weddings and funerals.

After retiring, he spent 10 years designing and selling church buildings. Since I retired in 2015, he takes care of many household duties –besides all his beautiful flowers outside–enabling me to have more time for writing and my cancer support ministry.

As the family patriarch, my hubby always texts an encouraging Bible verse prayer to family members each week.

At Refuge Church he’s the oldest member and still volunteers for remodeling and clean-up tasks at our new congregation’s future meeting place. He’s still as handsome as ever and he still makes me laugh–which I definitely need more of!

Shortly before we met, I made a decision that the only reason I would marry someone was if I believed that together we could serve God better than either of us could separately.

I believe that is exactly what has happened for the past almost 53 years.

And I expect it will continue…with my favorite octogenarian. Hopefully, ’til he’s 100 and I’m only 93.

I will be your God throughout your lifetime—
until your hair is white with age. Isaiah 46:4

The song below is my blessing for my wonderful husband. Perhaps you’d like to join me in praying it over him and your family as well. (Be sure to open in your browser to hear this 3 ¾-minute version of “The Blessing” by Cody Carnes and Kari Jobe.)