Category: gratitude

Jul 15

Rescued by God, Granddaughters (& Maybe an Angel)

I am certain that God and my granddaughters rescued me…but I think an angel might have lent a hand, too.

The date was Memorial Day 2024. All three granddaughters had spent the night and were downstairs in our large, finished basement. My husband was in the backyard. Because the girls, sisters Izzy (11) and Callyn (9) were happily playing with cousin Abby (9), I decided to walk on the treadmill located in a small, basement backroom.

I closed the door so I wouldn’t bother them as I did a brisk 5K while watching an old NCIS episode. A few minutes into my exercising I remembered something I forgot to do, so I paused the treadmill, stepped off and went upstairs.

Returning a few moments later, I stood by the treadmill and put my right foot on the belt. I have done this many times and know exactly what happens next: I carefully straddle the running deck by stepping onto the raised sides, attach the safety clip, hold on to both handrails, press start, and wait for the machine to countdown 3-2-1. As it quickly restarts, I step down onto the belt, tightly holding the side rails until my pace matches the treadmill’s.

But that is not what happened.

Instead, without me touching the control screen, the treadmill started up on its own at the 4-mph speed I had been walking. I was thrown backwards and slammed against the wall, which was only a foot from the rear of the machine.

My head kept banging against the wall and I felt like I might pass out. As I lay pinned on my left side, I could feel the skin ripping off my shoulder and my thigh. I tried to move, but couldn’t budge or make a sound.

I honestly thought I was going to die.

In desperation, my spirit cried out: Help me, Jesus! Immediately, a thought came: Get on your right side. Turn onto your right side.

I was sure I couldn’t move, but somehow I turned enough that my head was no longer banging and my flesh was no longer ripping. However, I still couldn’t get up from the fast-moving belt.

I was able to yell “Help!” and after a few muffled screams, the girls came into the room. I was hysterically hollering: “Turn it off! Stop it!” I couldn’t even explain how to do it, but Callyn later told me: “Grandma, I just looked for a button that said ‘STOP’ and I pressed it.”

There are photos of all my wounds, but will spare you. Bottom line: I sustained a fractured rib, several bruised ribs, a swollen ear, plus multiple friction burns, including a 3rd-degree one which has taken a year to heal, leaving a nasty scar.

I shudder to think what might have happened if my granddaughters weren’t in the next room…I truly believe they saved my life.

How I turned onto my right side is a mystery to me. Perhaps an angel? Maybe in Heaven I’ll get that answer. In the meantime, I’ll be eternally grateful that my precious granddaughters were close by and came to my rescue.

And I never will stop crying out to Jesus–even when I can’t utter a word.

Are you or someone you love in a “helpless” situation? Or do you feel “helpless” when you hear the news in our country and our world?

As the song “Cry Out to Jesus” promises: “There is hope for the helpless.”

It might even include an angel.
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Open in your browser to hear “Cry Out to Jesus” by Third Day.

P.S. For those with questions...My treadmill model had almost 900 reports of suddenly starting or stopping, including about 70 with injuries. My injuries were much worse because the rear of the treadmill was too close to the wall, pinning me there. I intended to join one of the lawsuits against the company, but discovered it was extremely unlikely I would ever see a dime. Instead the company reimbursed the full price of the 3-year-old machine and carted it away, along with my rights to any claims against them. I bought a new treadmill with a different operating system and no registered complaints. There’s more than 6-foot clearance behind it and I no longer ever pause it to get off. Also I wear an Apple watch, which detects falls and summons help if needed.

So in the words of radio broadcaster Paul Harvey: “Now you know the rest of the story.” ++++++++++++++++++++++

May 20

Celebration Time: My Oncologist has cancer Part 13

Well, the milestone that no physician thought possible–but for which family, friends and patients prayed–is here.

Tomorrow, May 22, 2025, is the fifth anniversary of Dr. Marc Hirsh’s diagnosis of a stage 4 very rare neuroendocrine tumor of the thymus!

Marc doesn’t have a party planned–life itself is enough of a celebration for him.

He and wife Elizabeth–plus Golden Retriever Boondock–recently returned from two weeks of traveling south in their camper van–a trip that  seemed impossible five years ago.

Marc clearly remembers how he felt when diagnosed at age 69.

“When I saw  that it had invaded into my heart and was in my lung, I was pretty pessimistic,” he recalls. “I was having a lot of trouble breathing, short of breath and in a lot of pain. In the hospital when Elizabeth asked me if it was curable, I told her I probably would be dead in three weeks.”

The “lowest point” emotionally came during his appointment with an oncologist at Johns Hopkins, where Marc was “very hopeful” he would learn something optimistic.

Instead, the doctor recommended an extremely toxic chemotherapy regimen which had “no data that it was curative.”

“I still have the oncologist’s report…and it said that if I didn’t do what they said, I’d be dead soon.”

But Marc refused the recommended treatment.

“I knew how incredibly toxic it was and I knew how weak I was,” Marc explains. “I knew how immuno-supressed I’d be and we were in the middle of COVID. I likely would have had to spend a lot of time in the hospital and the virus easily could have killed me.”

Instead he devised his own protocol of radiation/hormone therapy/oral chemo and what had been a grapefruit-sized tumor was the size of a lime at his check-up last year.

Last week on their trip, Marc celebrated his 74th birthday with a quick stop to purchase the “State Dessert of Maryland.”

“I bought myself a Smith Island Cake and I froze it and am eating a piece every day,” he confesses with a smile.

Elizabeth added that “he’s eating it all by himself” as she  gave up  sweets decades ago!

Marc says the realization that he might not quickly die from the cancer has dawned slowly.

“After about two or three years of (the tumor) being completely stable or slightly smaller. I started thinking I might actually be cured and there’s no active tumor left,” Marc explains.

“But I’m under no illusion,” he continues, “that the cancer definitely will never come back. I have a check-up June 10 so we will see how it looks.”

In the meantime, he has joined the local senior center’s twice-weekly over-60 basketball league.

“My wind is not what it used to be and the games are pretty intense and exhausting, but I’m enjoying it.”

When I asked Marc if he had any encouragement for those facing daunting health circumstances, he replied: “No matter what the so-called experts say, there are exceptions to generalities.

“Keep living for the moment, each day, each hour, each minute, and try to find meaning and joy no matter what the situation.”

Marc, who for 30+ years has shared his faith as a Jew who believes in Jesus as Messiah, says his diagnosis reminded him that others would see whether his actions were consistent with his words.

“I knew I had the opportunity to be courageous and to live life to the fullest,” he adds. “I could be an example of how to deal with what life hands you.”

(Life has handed Elizabeth a challenge, too, as she was diagnosed in 2023 with Parkinson’s Disease and needs Marc’s assistance with tasks she no longer can do.)

And at this 5-year milestone, for what is Marc most thankful?

“I’m incredibly grateful to God that He allowed me to be here for Elizabeth after all she’s done for me.”

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Open in your browser to hear Rich Mullins, Marc and Elizabeth’s favorite Christian artist, sing “Awesome God.” It seems appropriate on this 5-year “Cancerversary” to acknowledge our awesome God, and Rich sitting at the piano sharing a little about his faith before he sings reminds me of what Marc has done at our prayer support group concerts for the past three decades.

 

 

 

 

Apr 22

What “Granny Clampett” Taught Me about Love

If you’ve ever seen that spunky character Granny Clampett on the old television show The Beverly Hillbillies, you have a pretty good mental picture of my friend Alice. She was about the size of her TV counterpart with long, salt-and-pepper hair pulled back in a tight bun. Her blue eyes danced mischievously despite the fact she was nearing 80.

And from her I learned what God’s love is really like.

Alice’s ramshackle two-story home was on a road I traveled often and occasionally I’d see her outside.  Who is that tiny flannel-clad lady swinging such a big ax?

In the spring of 1995, Alice’s world met mine.

Her older daughter brought her to my Cancer Prayer Support Group meeting. In true Granny Clampett style, Alice didn’t particularly trust strangers and firmly announced that she didn’t know why she had come and wasn’t going to participate. 

But over the ensuing weeks, we all warmed to one another and Alice became like a favorite “granny” to our group. Soon she was suggesting some of her home remedies for the physical woes we experienced:

Soak walnuts in whiskey for a few days to relieve diarrhea.

Nibble on a bit of peach pit for heartburn. “I know they have laetrile in them and it’s poisonous, but it doesn’t hurt me,” she insisted.

For respiratory problems, Alice swore by a mixture of honey, lemon, whiskey, and linseed oil: “If there’s somethin’ down there in your chest, that’ll bring it up!” 

Photo by Vlad Deep on Unsplash

Alice and I developed a special bond because we had the same kind of cancer. Not much else about our lives was the same. 

She had had a tough life, but remembered having felt “a great love for God” when she was only 3. As an adult she took her own three children to church faithfully until their teens.

But then something happened that made Alice feel she wasn’t welcome and she stopped attending. When she came to our support group, it was her first time in decades to set foot inside a church building.

 Every month Alice came to our support-group meeting and occasionally on a Sunday morning, I’d see her sitting in our congregation, smiling at me.

In the spring of 1996 I asked her to be my guest at our church’s Mother-Daughter Banquet. When I picked her up, my jaw dropped…Hair obviously freshly washed and piled in a soft bun. A  bright pink skirt-and-sweater set, accented by a matching jewelry ensemble. Plus a light perfume fragrance. 

“Wow! Do you look beautiful!” I exclaimed. She was beaming now and handed me a crocheted cross bookmark. I told her I would put it my Bible, where I would see it every day and think of her. 

At the banquet, we laughed and even cheered when she won a prize for the oldest mother. 

A few months later Alice was bedridden, nearing death. We read the Psalms together and she announced that she was “ready to go home to God.”

“I love God,” she kept whispering.

“He loves you, too,” I promised her–grateful that she had found her way back to Him.

 

I can’t recall the first time Alice told me “You’re my best friend.” But I do remember feeling embarrassed by her pronouncement, knowing I had done so little for her. I resisted the temptation to protest, thanked her and hugged her frail body close to mine.

I told her I loved her and that she would be my forever friend…It was our last earthly conversation.

And that’s how my friend Alice taught me about “the overwhelming, never-ending reckless love of God…I couldn’t earn it, and I don’t deserve it.”

Excerpted from When GOD & Cancer Meet ©Lynn Eib, 2002
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Be sure to open in your browser to hear “Reckless Love” by Cory Asbury.

Jan 28

Why I Never Pray on My Knees

I’ve been pondering knees lately.  My knees, my husband’s knees,  even the “bees knees” (whatever that old expression means).

I’m not exactly sure why knees are on my mind.

Maybe I’ve been watching too much football and all those kneel-downs before the game or as time runs out (like THE Ohio State Buckeyes did on their way to winning the College Football Championship last week–oops, how did that get in here?)

Our posture–whether standing, sitting or kneeling–often can reveal the intentions of our heart.

Many years ago I heard a humorous story about a little girl who was reprimanded at school for repeatedly standing up in class. Her teacher insisted she must sit down, which the girl finally did, while loudly muttering “I’m still standing up on the inside!”

Kneeling can symbolize many attitudes–surrender, reverence, repentance, humility. Desperate prayers of weary folks often are voiced on bended knees.

Image by Yvonne Huijbens from Pixabay

The New Testament doesn’t command kneeling, but does mention many examples of it.

Servants falling on their knees begging for mercy.
A kneeling mother asking Jesus to favor her two sons.
A rich young ruler on his knees inquiring how to inherit eternal life.
A gratefully kneeling, no-longer-hemorrhaging woman.
The Apostle Paul on bended knee, crying out for a blessing on God’s people.
Peter kneeling in prayer petitioning God to heal a little girl.
Jesus refusing to kneel down and worship Satan.

Kneeling days are long gone for my 78-year-old husband and me. He’s had three knee replacements (not a typo–one had to be done twice because of an infection) and can’t put full weight on all that metal, ceramic and  plastic.

Thankfully, I haven’t had to have any knees replaced–nor do my 71-year-old knees hurt–but for the past several years I’ve had an issue with my psoas muscle (yeah, I never heard of it either). Despite spending a couple thousand dollars on imaging, physical therapy and chiropractic, I cannot go down on my knees without causing severe lower abdominal pain which lasts for days.

I still bow my head and my heart in thankfulness to start and end each day, but now you know why I never pray on my knees. 

Perhaps you do literally pray on your knees. Or maybe you’re like my husband and me and physically unable to. Or you don’t go down because you know you can’t get back up!

Take heart, a new day is coming when our hearts and knees will be bowed:

Therefore, God elevated Him to the place of highest honor
and gave Him the name above all other names,
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue declare that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father. Philippians 2:9-11

In the meantime, I’ll be sitting down as I surrender myself to the Lord. And I’ll stay seated while I cry out for His grace, mercy and healing on friends, family and weary folks around the globe whom I don’t even know.

But I can tell you that even if I’m sitting down…on the inside I’m still kneeling.
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Open in your browser to hear the song “Fight on My Knees” by Evan Croft.

Dec 31

Are you tired of all the bad news?

Interviewing Atty. F. Lee Bailey 1989

Sometimes I miss my days of being a newspaper reporter–reading three daily papers and chasing after big stories (like interviewing F. Lee Bailey, attorney for such notorious defendants as the Boston Strangler, O.J. Simpson, and Dr. Sam Sheppard, a.k.a. “The Fugitive.”).

But most of the time nowadays I don’t even want to hear much of the news.

Devastating wars, the constant threat of terrorism, political unrest,  severe weather disasters, so much hate, and too many friends and relatives battling illnesses.

Life is not only hard; it’s downright unfair, as some people seem to have more than their share of trouble. You or your loved one might even be one of those people.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we lived in a world where everything was fair, people didn’t get sick and sad things didn’t happen? That would be a great place to call “home.”

Did you ever wonder why there’s such a longing in each of us for just such a place? It’s a longing for home, you know.  A longing for our real home. You see, we weren’t created to live in Pennsylvania or New York or anywhere else on the face of this planet. We were created for our real home…Heaven.

Image by Tumisu from Pixabay

The Bible describes Heaven as the place where God “will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain.” (Revelation 21:14)

And why won’t there be any more tears or death or pain? Not because we’ll have all the money we ever wanted. Or all the success. Or all the beauty. Or any other tangible item.

It’s because we’ll have God Himself.

“Look! God’s home is now among his people! He will live with them and they will be his people.” (Revelation 21:13)

We’ll have what we always really needed to be whole—the constant presence of God Himself.

The great 17th-century philosopher and mathematician Blaise Pascal wrote that we all have a “God-shaped vacuum” inside. There’s a hole, so to speak, in our souls that leaves us longing for something more than this world has to offer.

God has “planted eternity in the human heart” the writer of Ecclesiastes tells us.

God knows only He can fill that hole of longing even though we try to fill it ourselves. Some of us try to fill it by buying “stuff” or with relationships or with work or sports or with learning or religious rituals. Some even try things like food or sex or drugs or alcohol. But none of these can fill the God-shaped vacuum in us…instead they only make it bigger.

The only thing that fills that hole and makes us whole is when God fills it with Himself by putting His very Spirit inside us. And when God’s Spirit lives in us, we discover our purpose for living.

It’s really quite simple…Do you know what it is?

We were created to praise God.

That’s right. We find true joy, true fulfillment, when we realize there’s Someone bigger than us. Someone greater than us. Someone worthy of every bit of praise we can give.

If you’ve not really had praise for God well up in your heart lately (or ever!), I pray that you will today.

And if you’re still trying to fill that God-shaped vacuum with other things, I pray you’ll allow God to fill you with Himself and satisfy that longing for your real Home

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Open in your browser to hear “Indescribable” by Chris Tomlin and please sing along–out loud or in your heart.

And here’s a bonus video of Chris singing about “Home.”