Category: peace

Jun 03

My Father vs. the Angry Goose

Did I ever tell you about the time my father was attacked on a golf course?

It’s true.

After Dad retired from civil service, he worked part-time at a community course as a ranger traveling the links in a golf cart. A seasoned golfer with a 4-handicap in his younger days, Dad knew he should steer clear of the nesting goose on the course. And thought he was keeping a safe distance from her not-hatched-yet goslings.

But mama goose apparently didn’t agree that he was far enough away, and as he rode by, she circled around and flew straight toward him.  Dad kept thinking that surely she would turn, but instead the goose aimed her sharp beak right between his eyes. At the last second he let go of the wheel and threw up his right arm to protect his face as the goose’s broad wing knocked off his baseball cap. Dad lost control of the cart and ended up capsizing in a shallow stream–much to the amusement of a nearby foursome of young guys, who literally fell to the green in hysterics!

He laughed as he later told me the story, but I was horrified.

“Dad, what if you hadn’t thrown up your arm in time?” I chided him. “Do you know what the newspaper headline would have been the next day?…’Man Goosed to Death on Golf Course’!”

Please excuse my weird sense of humor, but as an ex-newspaper reporter, I’m always thinking about stories and headlines! Anyway, the moral of this story seems to be that Mother Goose will do whatever needs to be done to protect her family!

Mother hens do likewise. Have you ever watched one clucking and spreading her wings as she tried to safely gather her chicks when a dangerous storm or predator approached?

Did you know that Jesus once described Himself as a mother hen? In Matthew 23:37 we read:

“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones God’s messengers!
How often I have wanted to gather your children together
as a hen protects her chicks beneath her wings, but you wouldn’t let Me.”  (emphasis mine)

As Jesus looked over the city of Jerusalem, He knew that He was the answer to the longings of Jewish hearts, but the people didn’t want to hear it. Like a protective, loving parent, the Lord longed to draw these folks close and keep them safe, but they wouldn’t let Him.

Can you feel those “wings” over you today–protecting you, shielding you, trying to draw you close?

Even if you can’t, I promise you they are there.

The eternal God is your refuge, and His everlasting arms are under you.–Deuteronomy 33:27

He will cover you with His feathers.
    He will shelter you with His wings.
    His faithful promises are your armor and protection.-–Psalm 91:4

Yes, I know that bad things still happen to us and those we love. And yes, I know that unfair circumstances often are forced upon us. But I also know that even in the midst of this fallen world, God’s love cannot let us go.

Below are two favorite photos of my dad. In one he is safely holding 2-year-old me at the edge of Niagra Falls and in the other he meets and cradles his firstborn grandchild. Even if you don’t have happy memories of your earthly Father’s arms protecting and shielding you, today you can start experiencing that peace in your Heavenly Father’s arms as you draw close and let Him love you.

(Please open in your browser to enjoy the beautiful song “Under His Wings (Psalm 91) by Tom Mottershead.)

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.

Mar 25

“Do one thing every day that scares you.”

First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt

I love this quote attributed to Eleanor Roosevelt.* I can only imagine how many “scary” things this First Lady had to do each day. She was described as a shy child, orphaned by age 10. Later her husband, Franklin D. Roosevelt, was stricken with polio, necessitating her expanded role in his political career.

Eventually she became the first First Lady to speak out on political and humanitarian issues, for which she was both strongly criticized and enthusiastically praised. I wonder if she woke up each day reminding herself: Do one thing today that scares you.

I’d like to suggest that today the scariest thing God may be calling you–and me–to do is to “be still” and trust Him.

Let me explain by sharing a great story in 2 Chronicles 20 about a scared Jewish king named Jehoshaphat. He was told that some powerful armies were coming to attack Jerusalem and his reaction was not atypical from what ours might have been—he “was terrified”!

Jehoshaphat “begged the Lord for guidance” and God answered by sending His Spirit to speak through one of the king’s men who announced:

 “This is what the Lord says: Do not be afraid! Don’t be discouraged by this mighty army, for the battle is not yours, but God’s. Tomorrow, march out against them. You will find them coming up through the ascent of Ziz at the end of the valley that opens into the wilderness of Jeruel. But you will not even need to fight. Take your positions; then stand still and watch the Lord’s victory. He is with you, O people of Judah and Jerusalem. Do not be afraid or discouraged. Go out against them tomorrow, for the Lord is with you!” (2 Chronicles 20:15-17)

The king and his people agreed to “fear not”—instead they believed God’s message and began to worship Him, praise Him, and sing to Him. At the very moment they did this, the Bible says God caused the approaching armies to fight amongst themselves and kill each other! The Israelites won the battle without a fight because God fought for them. 

Logically, standing still does not sound like a good way to win a battle. But then God’s ways are not always our ways, are they? The armies coming against Jehoshaphat were way too large and powerful to be defeated by the king and his men. The situation was hopeless from their perspective—but it was hope-filled from God’s vantage point.

One of the most difficult admonitions in Scripture for me to follow is Psalm 46:10: “Be still and know that I am God.” I’m not very good at being patiently still.

The word translated “still” in Psalm 46:10 is the Hebrew word harpu. I’m no Hebrew scholar, but I did some research and found it conveys the idea of letting go or ceasing to act. It’s the opposite of striving with our arms up, ready to fight or defend ourselves.

I think that at times we need to quit striving, acknowledge our fears, surrender the fight to God and prayerfully release His power to work in the situation.

So go ahead and do one thing today that might scare you: trust the Lord and be still–even when it doesn’t seem to make sense.

(This post is excerpted and adapted from Peace in the Face of Cancer, copyright Lynn Eib 2017.)

* Widely attributed to Eleanor Roosevelt (including in a 2013 book by the same name), I could not verify any original sources. The earliest verifiable print source appears to be a June 1997 Chicago Tribune advice column by Mary Schmich. But even if Mrs. Roosevelt didn’t utter this sentiment, I think she lived it!
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Open in your browser to hear the song I’ve been listening to every morning in the face of discouraging, seemingly hopeless circumstances: “Be Still and Know” with CeCe Winans.

 

 

Mar 11

Are you as contented as a 2-year-old?

A dozen years ago I was on our deck serving an early morning breakfast to my oldest grandchild, Bauer, 2½. Thanks to my husband’s green thumb, the deck was bursting with beautiful blooms and as I stumbled around, chiding my foggy brain to wake up, little Bauer let out a small toddler sigh.

“It’s lovely out here,” he said with a sweet smile. “We have everything we need.”

Ah, contentment.

A bowl of multigrain Cheerios with milk, a Lightning McQueen sippy cup of juice, the beauty of nature, and a day with grandma—what more could you possibly want?

Maybe a clear PET scan? Perhaps a day without turmoil? How about not struggling with depression? No more medicine side-effects would be nice. An insurance company that didn’t balk at paying for what the doctor ordered would be really great.

It’s difficult to have childlike contentment when we live in a grown-up world where in the U.S. alone, a new cancer diagnosis is made every 30 seconds and  someone is identified with Alzheimer’s every 65 seconds. On top of those sobering statistics, every second the political fight rages around us seemingly unabated.

It’s not easy to find contentment while watching ourselves or a loved one deal with  physical/emotional/mental assault.

I remember many years ago, our dear friends, Don and Jean, found their world turned upside down when she was diagnosed with inoperable, stage 4 non-small cell  lung cancer. The retired schoolteachers frantically began searching for contentment.

“I was shocked,” she told me at the time. “I thought I was too healthy to get cancer. I was doing all the ‘right’ things to be a healthy person—never smoking, eating right, exercising, weight control, regular checkups and all that.”

After that frightening diagnosis, both Don and Jean tried to live in the moment, but the admonition to “take one day at a time” was “the opposite” of their teaching careers.

“As teachers we always had to look ahead and plan for another day,” they explained.

Learning to live one day at a time—and live it to the fullest (like contentedly watching a Maine vacation sunset)—was not an easy task.

“I think both of us in our own way just turned this whole thing over to God,” Don recalled. “For me it was putting total faith in His plan—knowing it’s a perfect plan—even if I didn’t understand it all.”

I’ve thought often about my grandson’s contented sentiment, especially mornings when I sit down with my to-do list, ready to organize everything that I think needs to be done that day! Sometimes I pause, smile to myself and say: “It’s lovely here and we have everything we need.”

Perhaps that’s a sentiment with which you could start your day?  The words of a toddler could be described as childish, but if you have total faith in a loving God, they can become childlike trust.

I remember that peaceful feeling when my newly delivered, just-nursed firstborn slept in my arms. All the hours of terrible back labor and exhaustion were forgotten. The future still was unknown, but with the psalmist I could say:

 

Of one thing I am certain: my soul has become calm, quiet, and contented in You.
Like a weaned child resting upon his mother, I am quiet. 
Psalm 131:2 The Voice Bible

And on this promise I still can rest:

Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said,
“Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.” Hebrews 13:5

 It is lovely here in my soul and with God I have everything I need.
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Please open in your browser to hear the music video “If I Got Jesus” by Ben Fuller. (I liked the words and music so much, I decided to ignore the grammar mistakes! 🙂 )