Category: prayer

Jul 12

What are your plans?

“Hi, my name is Lynn, and I’m a compulsive planner.”

That’s how I would introduce myself if I found a support group for people like me who believe they simply must plan everything. (I basically have to plan to be spontaneous.)

Image by inspireus from Pixabay

I told my husband (a compulsive impromptu person) that I was thinking of blogging about planning. His reply with a slight eye-roll: “So you’re planning to write about planning?”

I feel badly for him living with a compulsive planner, but the handwriting was on the wall–literally–when we started dating in college and he saw my day was scheduled in 15-minute calendar increments.

God is a God of plans, but I know that His plans and mine are not always the same. And more importantly, I’ve learned that sometimes I need to ditch mine so I don’t miss out on His good gifts.

I’m so rarely spontaneous that when I do have a spontaneous thought, I’ve discovered it’s often God speaking. Like the day I was doing my brisk, 3-mile neighborhood walk and coming up the big hill where I always go straight on that route. But that day, I “felt” as if I should turn on to a little cul-de-sac that I normally take on a different route.

I hesitated, veered right, and shortly saw a woman who is part of the same, large church as we are.

I slowed slightly to say “hi” and inquire how she was.

“I’m recovering from cancer surgery” was her reply, which stopped me in my tracks–literally.

I listened to her story, prayed with her and later dropped off 50 Days of Hope. She was so appreciative and marveled that I “happened” to walk by just before she planned to go inside.

Had I stuck to my very logical walking plan, I would have missed a divine appointment.

I’ve had many similar moments when an unplanned idea pops up.

Like the time our daughter Bethany was playing junior high basketball at a school an hour away so we didn’t plan to attend. But while at work, the clear thought came to me: “Go to Bethany’s game.” We drove to the school and joyfully witnessed her sink the winning basket.  Afterwards a beaming  Bethany explained she told herself “I can do all things through Christ who gives me the strength.”

Another day at work, I spontaneously thought we should drive to daughter Lindsey’s  fast-pitch softball game despite the distance and the cold spring day. Wrapped in winter coats, gloves, and blankets, we cheered like crazy as she struck out the side three innings in a row–her best pitching outing ever.

I’ve never heard God audibly, but many times I have sensed Him urging me to:

Pray for a certain person.
Send a card to a specific friend.
Do something difficult (like start a support group!)
Love someone who doesn’t “deserve” it.
Trust Him when it doesn’t make sense.

I can’t promise how you will “hear” God’s voice–it could be a Scripture verse, a friend’s wise counsel, or an impromptu idea–but I can promise He is speaking.

Listen carefully to what God the LORD is saying,
for he speaks peace to his faithful people. Psalm 85:8

Your own ears will hear him.
Right behind you a voice will say, “This is the way you should go,”
whether to the right or the left. Isaiah 30:21

I’m planning to listen for God each day to direct my steps–literally and figuratively. Seems like a good plan for a compulsive planner. 🙂

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Enjoy this peaceful 2 1/2-minute music video, “Open Our Eyes” by Steffany Gretzinger.

Apr 20

Mountaintops & Valleys: My Oncologist Has Cancer (Part 8)

Dr. Marc Hirsh has walked some deep valleys since he was diagnosed in 2020 with such a serious and rare cancer that he and every specialist he consulted thought his death was imminent.

Within days he was forced to close his busy, solo practice of more than three decades and then undergo a painful thoracotomy to biopsy and de-bulk the nearly cantaloupe-size tumor behind his heart. That was followed by six weeks of radiation, daily oral chemo and monthly hormone injections. Just a few weeks later came the deep valley of  having to say goodbye to his very sick, beloved rescue-dog Jake who had accompanied him to the office every day and greeted patients for 10 years.

But then the valleys started leveling out.

Camping in Oregon with grandchildren

The tumor shrank to about the size of an egg. The terrible pain, constant headaches, and difficulty breathing disappeared. He resumed his rigorous exercising—swimming, kayaking, paddle boarding, jogging, biking, punching a heavy bag, and backyard sports with grandkids.

And then came a definite mountaintop: turning 70 and celebrating one-year as a survivor last May.

And now nearly a year later, more mountaintops–the first being another stable scan last month.

“I still have a tumor, but it’s not growing,” Marc explains. “I have a little chest pain and shortness of breath sometimes, but I’m able to pretty much do anything I want.”

The second followed shortly after and was a literal mountaintop experience.

After the good news at the Hershey Medical Center check-up, Marc and wife Elizabeth headed out West to visit older daughter Jessi and her family. As Elizabeth drove through Idaho, Marc commented that they  were “only” about 100 miles from Sun Valley, where he had heard the downhill skiing was incredible.

Cell phone photo by Marc Hirsh 3/22

“So Elizabeth gave me an early birthday present and drove all the way to Sun Valley,” he explains.

They arrived about midnight and secured a room at the lodge so Marc could celebrate his soon-to-be 71st birthday with his first ski in the West. (Normally he skis near his south-central PA home where the mountain vertical drops are about 400 feet or enjoys trips to Vermont with slopes of about 1,000-2,000 feet.)

An avid skier since his early teens, Marc got up early the next day and boarded the shuttle to Bald Mountain. When he got to the top, he could hardly believe his eyes.

“The vertical drop is in excess of 3,000 feet and I was looking down on snow-covered peaks!” he explains.  “It was amazing!”

Three hours later and  completely exhausted from plowing through the white powder, Marc came down from the mountain.

But that thrill remains.

“While I was up there I was thinking about this whole (cancer) experience,” Marc says. “Two years ago I was at the lowest point and now I’m on top of a mountain. I have a special gift just being alive–God didn’t have to give me this, but He did.”

LifeHopeandTruth.com

“I’m just blessed to think of the whole experience,” he adds. “I have less distractions in my life so I’m more appreciative, more grateful. I still don’t know what’s in the future, but I’m not afraid of it.”

Happy birthday, dear Marc, with prayers for many more.
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Don’t miss the short, music video of “Calling Out Your Name” by Rich Mullins, Marc and Elizabeth’s favorite Christian artist.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mar 23

When You Can’t See Daddy

When our grandson Benjamin was four, he was a total Daddy’s boy—as in, the best time of day was when Daddy came home and the worst time was when he had to leave.

So it wasn’t surprising when we were together at a local pizza buffet a few years ago and Benny stopped eating pasta Alfredo long enough to ask:  “Where’s Daddy?”

“He’s at the buffet getting salad,” I replied. “Remember, he told you he was going there and he would be right back?”

“No, I can’t see him,” Benny said as his inside “restaurant” voice got a little louder.

“I can see him, Ben,” I calmly told him. “He’s right there,” I said, gesturing to the salad bar at the end of the room.

Benny surveyed as much of the room as he could see from his height advantage and frantically announced: “I can’t see Daddy!”

Quickly he jumped down from his seat while calling for “Daaaaaaaaddy!”

“Over here, Ben!” his dad quickly replied, as the little guy followed that familiar voice to the salad bar, where, surprise, surprise, Daddy stood smiling. The two joined hands as Ben swallowed his tears and waited patiently for Dad to finish and walk back to the table with him.

Poor little Benny: he was worried and afraid because he lost sight of his daddy.

Do you know how he felt?

Are the struggles of this world weighing you down, leaving you straining to glimpse your heavenly Father?

Perhaps you know in your head that God is there, but your heart just doesn’t feel His presence. Maybe you’re wondering if He really can work all things together for good.

I suggest you follow the steps my grandson took when he lost sight of his father at the pizza parlor.

Tell someone that you’re having trouble seeing God right now.
Make sure it’s a trusted friend/family member who will listen to your feelings and not minimize or belittle them. Someone who loves you and will pray for you to see God again.

Call out to God.
Psalm 61:2 From the ends of the earth, I cry to you for help when my heart is overwhelmed. Lead me to the towering rock of safety.
Psalm 34:17 The LORD hears his people when they call to him for help. He rescues them from all their troubles.

LifeHopeandTruth.com

Listen for your heavenly Father’s familiar voice.
John 10:14,16 “I am the good shepherd; I know my own sheep and they know me…They will listen to my voice, and there will be one flock with one shepherd.”

Run to His open arms.
Isaiah 40:11 He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart.
Luke 15:20 And while he (the prodigal son) was a long way off, his father saw him coming. Filled with love and compassion, he ran to his son, embraced him and kissed him.

Let Him love you.
Jeremiah 31:3-4 “I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving-kindness.”
Zephaniah 3:17 He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love.

It was wonderful to watch my son-in-law Frank quiet Benjamin with his love. And it’s even more wonderful to feel God quiet us with His great love. May you see your Abba Father today and let Him love you as only He can.
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Be sure to open in your browser to hear the song “How He Loves Us” by the Dave Crowder Band

Mar 08

The Last Touch

My 60th in 2013

My younger brother Jim and I invented a game as little kids and for some inexplicable reason we continue to play it now in our late 60s.

We call it “Touched You Last.”

The rules are simple: When it’s time to part, be the last person to touch the other.  Finesse is important as we each aim to have the final tap before darting away yelling “touched you last!”

However, the person who was touched last is allowed to run after the last-toucher and attempt a final feel, so the game can last quite a while.

(The photo to the right shows my brother a few years ago supposedly “helping” me up on one of his horses, but I know he really was making sure he touched me last because I wouldn’t be able to chase him! )

Jim and I haven’t played our game since the pandemic began, but hopefully we’ll be able to travel to Ohio this summer and I can secure the decisive pat. (For some reason, my husband–an only child–doesn’t understand this important sibling pastime, including why my brother and I still find such enjoyment in it.)

Regardless of whether you agree with my husband or me concerning the wisdom of this ritual, I believe we all would concur that human touch is essential.

I remember how awful it felt at the very beginning of the pandemic when  we were pretty much afraid to touch one another–even our family and closest friends. And then how wonderful it was to feel safe enough to hug and kiss our daughters and grandkids.

But it’s not only human touch we crave; I believe we all long for a divine touch.

The New Testament is full of stories of Jesus touching:

The leper’s scaly skin.

The disciples’ dirty feet.

The blind man’s eyes.

Luke, the physician and Gospel writer, records a night in the life of Jesus:
As the sun went down that evening, people throughout the village brought sick family members to Jesus. No matter what their diseases were, the touch of his hand healed every one.” Luke 4:40

And how about the time when parents wanted to bring their children near Jesus, but were stopped by His disciples before He interceded?

But Jesus said ‘Let the children come to me’…
And he placed his hands on their heads and blessed them before he left.” Matthew 19:14-15

Katy Nichole’s No. 1 debut single

Would you, too, like a touch from God? I may not know exactly what you are seeking from the Lord, but in the words of singer-songwriter Katy Nichole, I would love “to speak the Name of Jesus over you.”

As you listen* to this very short prayer-song, know that I am asking the Lord to touch you at your point of need. Please don’t miss it as it’s the best part of this blog.

As the song’s chorus says: “I pray for your healing, that circumstances would change. I pray that the fear inside would flee in Jesus’ Name. I pray that a breakthrough would happen today. I pray miracles over your life in Jesus’ Name.”

And for you to trust that He is the God of the possible.

*BE SURE TO OPEN IN YOUR BROWSER.

Feb 09

“Just let ’em fall like healing rain”

May I be honest and share two things?…First, this short post is mainly for me. And second, the song at the end is the best part of it.

I’m writing for myself because unwelcome events have left a trail of sadness in my heart.

Perhaps you can relate.

I’m mourning two years of a brutal pandemic, countless natural disasters, unending political bickering, and the painful fracturing of the body of Christ. Toss in my personal, unresolved pain issues; turmoil in our local church; dear friends with life-threatening diagnoses –plus other discouraging scenarios–and the result has become my recipe for sorrow.

Image by joseph_Berardi from Pixabay

I think I need a good cry.

I’m serious.

Sadness builds up in our lives and for the most part, we–men in particular–don’t allow ourselves to really feel the emotion. Instead we keep busy. We eat. We work. We complain. We watch TV. We scroll through Facebook. We even belittle ourselves for feeling/acting the way we do.

But we rarely shed tears. I’m talking about the cathartic kind of weeping where afterwards we feel strangely lighter–as if we’ve cast off something heavy. Which of course we really have.

It’s the kind of cry where we acknowledge we can’t fix all the mess in the world, in our country, in the church, in our friends, and in us. But we know and trust in a God who can. It’s a surrendering wail to our Heavenly Father who is at work restoring and renewing this world and us–even if we can’t always see it in everyday life.

So that’s all I’m writing for today because I want to take time to listen to the song “Tears” and do just what it says: “Let ’em fall like healing rain.”

Maybe you, my weary friend, will too.

“Let ’em fall right down your face; hit the ground in a pool of grace…Watch the old become new. Let the fear fade away. Feel His arms around you.”

Why am I discouraged? Why is my heart so sad?
I will put my hope in God!
I will praise Him again–my Savior and my God!
Psalm 42:11

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Be sure to open in your browser to hear the beautiful music video “Tears” by Matt Hammitt.