Oct 14

You Need a “Karen” in Your Life

Photo credit: X@gracklebirder1

Last month a Phillies fan retrieved a home run ball and handed it to his young son, only to be immediately confronted by another Phillies fan, who demanded the ball, which had landed nearer her. The shocked dad took the ball from his kid and gave it to the woman, who marched back to her seat.

The incident was captured on video and of course, went viral. Social media immediately nicknamed her “Phillies Karen.”

In case you’re not familiar with “Karen” as a pejorative slang term, Wikipedia explains it is “typically used to refer to a middle class woman who is perceived as entitled or excessively demanding.”

Many women with the now-maligned name of Karen have started using the tagline “Not that Karen”–as evidenced by one of my fellow New York Times Spelling Bee game players.

Through the years I’ve had many women actually named Karen move in and out of my life. In fact at one point in the ’80s there were so many Karens in our church that they started a “Karen Choir” of six lovely voices.

I truly treasure all those Karen-memories, but three Karens have especially blessed my life.

All are younger than I am–spring chickens, only in their 60s–and my dear friends for four decades. They epitomize poet William Ward’s description:

“A friend is one who joyfully sings with you when you are on the mountaintop
and silently walks beside you through the valley.”

Friend. It’s a word not easily described, so we tend to stick adjectives in front of it: close friend, best friend, childhood friend, lifelong friend. Friends are special because–unlike our relatives–we get to pick them!

L. to R., Karen W., Karen M., Karen Y.

I’m so happy I picked Karen M. for a friend. Her wry humor still cracks me up and I’m inspired by her care for her husband, who had a massive stroke last year, paralyzing his left side. I especially appreciate her raw honesty as she struggles against the fear, anxiety and overwhelming daily tasks: “I’m clawing my way back–one prayer, one verse at a time.”

I’m so grateful I picked Karen W. as a friend. Together we’ve nursed our babies, served our Lord and ministered to cancer patients and grievers. Her incredible compassion for family, friends and the lost energizes me to press on and not give up.  And I’ll never forget that she “celebrated” her 30th birthday visiting me in the hospital after my cancer surgery.

And I’m so thankful I picked Karen Y. to be my friend. For 14 years we’ve celebrated a “Pamper Lynn & Karen Day” (sometimes multiple times!) Her wise insights feed my mind and her peaceful presence soothes my soul, as she reminds me to “Keep swimming, little eagle!” ( https://lynneib.com/2025/09/09/10892/ )

My weary friend, you need a Karen, too.

Two people are better off than one, for they can help each other succeed. If one person falls, the other can reach out and help. But someone who falls alone is in real trouble. Ecclesiastes 4:9-12

And if you don’t feel like you have that kind of friend, ask God to bring someone into your life as He did for the Apostle Paul:

When we arrived at Macedonia, there was no rest for us. We faced conflict from every direction, with battles on the outside and fear on the inside. But God, who encourages those who are discouraged, encouraged us by the arrival of Titus.  2 Corinthians 7:5-6

Ask God to send a “Titus” (or a Not-that-Karen) to bring you healing hope.

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Open in your browser to hear the contemporary Christian group Selah sing “You Raise Me Up” ©Universal Music Publications and Peermusic III Ltd . This is what true friends do for weary souls.

 

Sep 30

Still Learning to Love (and Live) Like Carolyn

Last month when Carolyn Dunn, my dear friend of 40+ years had a biopsy to diagnosis the “spots” on her liver and pancreas, we prayed it would be “just” lymphoma.

It was not.

Instead, she and husband David, a retired pastor, received what most would consider a devastating diagnosis–Stage 4 pancreatic cancer.

“I was stunned,” Carolyn said when she called with the CT scan news, which first revealed the lesions.

The couple, married 62 years, had been spending the summer at their remote, lakeside Maine cabin, affectionately named Dunn Inn. Their family took turns visiting and enjoying swimming, fishing, boating, lobster-eating and celebrating Carolyn’s 81st birthday.

In the spring, Carolyn had had stomach issues which seemed to resolve with medication, but in July the pain returned, along with a fever. After Maine ER docs and blood tests couldn’t find an answer, the Dunns headed back early to PA for more tests. That proved to be a wise decision as a CT scan revealed a pulmonary embolism (blood clot in the lung) and Carolyn was immediately admitted to the hospital.

After long conversations with her oncologist–a compassionate Christian man–Carolyn decided not to take chemo, but instead receive palliative (comfort) care.

I still am weeping.

I have considered Carolyn my mentor since David was on the committee which chose my husband in 1983 to pastor the new church plant in Spring Grove, PA. Ten years older than me, with three daughters–including a Bethany in the middle–Carolyn was the perfect wise woman from whom I could learn.

And learn I have.

I’ve watched her deal with the shock of teenage pregnancy, the pain of divorce, the estrangement of family, and the betrayals of ministry. And in each trial, she showed me how it looks to love unconditionally. To pray impossible prayers. To wait patiently on the Lord. To be the hands and feet of Jesus.

And in the good times (especially women’s retreats), I watched as she taught me to laugh at embarrassing moments–like when you’re fishing at your cabin and your husband bends over to tie up the boat, but you accidentally snag his underwear with your fishing hook, and then you’re laughing so hard you can’t get the hook out!

Now with this health news, I am watching my wise friend teach me to face my own mortality.

“I know my life is coming to an end, but I choose to focus on the goodness of God,” Carolyn said. “I want my life to bring glory to God–I want it to be a showcase for His glory!”

I am not surprised that Carolyn is facing death the same way she has faced life. What an incredible, eternal inheritance she is leaving her three daughters and their families, including seven granddaughters and six great-grandchildren (and yes, she finally got some boys!)

Casting Crowns’ lead singer Mark Hall has a beautiful song (video below) which says: “I don’t want to leave a legacy and I don’t care if they remember me–only Jesus.”

And then Hall’s song poses two great questions: “Did I live the truth to the ones I love?” and “Was my life the proof that there was only One whose name will last forever?”

Carolyn, just in case you ever wonder, I’d like to answer those questions for you.

YES, you lived the truth to the ones you love.

And YES, your life has been proof that there is only One whose name will last forever.

 I am one of the thousands who will remember you because of your legacy of loving and living like Jesus. From the bottom of my heart, thank you, dear friend.
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Please open in your browser to hear “Only Jesus” ©2018 Provident Label Group LLC, a division of Sony Music Entertainment

Sep 09

When Eagles Get Too Wet

If you’re wondering how I’m feeling after my August mini-sabbatical set aside for renewal and refreshment, I can describe it in two words:

Wet eagle.

No, not wet beagle…wet eagle. And I don’t mean a damp eagle, I mean a really soaking wet eagle.

Confused? Let me explain.

Four days before our scheduled family vacation the first week of August, my husband developed back pain so severe he couldn’t even stand straight. His chiropractor–after twice attempting adjustments–sent him to orthopedic urgent care. X-rays were negative and the diagnosis was sciatica with an Rx for six days of tapering prednisone.

Back at  home I parked my usually very helpful husband into a La-Z-Boy recliner and began caring for him while I finished all the packing for our week-long trip to a lakeside cabin coincidentally named “Eagles’ Landing.” Unfortunately, all that extra walking, leaning and carrying exacerbated my two medical issues: a plantar plate tear on the bottom of my foot, and the post-herpetic neuralgia in my back (think burning shingles pain which doesn’t go away).

I’ll spare you the play-by-play of our health saga, but more than a month later, we now know Ralph has a herniated L4 disc. Thankfully, he can stand up straight, but still has a long way to heal.

Meanwhile, my pain persists, which brings me back to wet eagles.

Did you know that an eagle’s estimated 7,000 feathers are not fully waterproof?  If they get saturated with too much moisture, these majestic birds actually get waterlogged and become aerodynamically unable to fly.

And if this occurs when they’re on the water–perhaps fishing for prey which fights and pulls them under–the eagle doesn’t have the lift necessary to take off. So it must start swimming toward land as evidenced in the link to this amazing 9-second video IMG_3615 taken recently by our friend Chris Gaffga as he kayaked on the Potomac River beside a too-wet-eagle.

After climbing ashore, Chris’s eagle spread its feathers and waited on the rocks for the sun to dry them before attempting to fly again.

That leads us to an important truth. While bald eagles normally soar up to 10,000 feet and golden eagles up to twice that high…

Sometimes even eagles can’t soar. 

I wanted to “soar” last month, but it didn’t happen. And I know many of you can relate. You or your loved one is dealing with a chronic condition. Or facing a serious diagnosis. Or reeling from life-altering circumstances. Perhaps you’ve felt water-logged for months, years or even decades.

Physically, some of us or our loved ones aren’t going to “soar” again here on Earth, but I believe spiritually we all can be lifted above the turmoil.


He gives power to the weak
    and strength to the powerless.
Even youths will become weak and tired,
    and young men will fall in exhaustion.
But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength.
    They will soar high on wings like eagles.
They will run and not grow weary.
    They will walk and not faint.--Isaiah 40:29-31

Image by rise-a-mui from Pixabay

Even if the physical deliverance doesn’t come in the way we prayed, God can give us emotional strength and spiritual power to not grow weary or faint. Who knows? He might send an eagle or maybe a  whole flock of them to carry us.

In the meantime, keep swimming, keep flapping, and keep trusting in the LORD. I’m right there with you…while I wait for the Son to someday dry my feathers.
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Open in your browser to hear “Lead Me to to the Rock” by Carly Fletcher.

 

 

Jul 29

“Just to Get through This!”

When Layne Lebo recently was diagnosed with cancer, his plan was “just to get through this.”

But he quickly realized God had a much bigger–and  better–plan in mind.

The journey actually started routinely enough.

“I was combing my hair and discovered a lump on my arm,” recalls Layne, then 58, and the lead pastor at a large church in Mechanicsburg, PA.

He felt fine and had been exercising quite a bit, so Layne didn’t really think it was anything of concern. At his next primary care physician check-up he casually mentioned the lump.  The doctor wasn’t particularly concerned either, but recommended an MRI just to be sure.

The ensuing biopsy results were delivered Feb. 6.

“The good news was I didn’t need surgery to have the cyst removed, but the bad news was I had non-Hodgkin lymphoma,” Layne explains.

The normally optimistic guy was reeling, but had to go home and share the report with Greta, his wife of 32 years. Together they “processed” the life-threatening diagnosis, including how best to share it with their three kids, ages 21, 25, and 27.

That same day Greta promptly wrote a list of six commitments she hoped the family would embrace:

Armed with that simple plan, Layne began chemo in April with his family–near and far–cheering him on.

Around that time, one of the pastors on staff at his church sent a text saying that as she prayed for him, she “strongly sensed” God would use this cancer journey to give him “more compassion for the suffering of others.”

“I think I’m a pretty nice guy,” says Layne, “but I find it challenging to relate and show compassion to others (facing) things I haven’t experienced.

“My life has been pretty easy…I probably have ‘compassion deficit’,” he adds with a smile.

But it wasn’t long before Layne began to see God softening his heart toward others.

Layne before chemo

He started reaching out to patient families at the cancer center and trying to encourage them by gifting a copy of 50 Days of Hope. (Layne admits that when he first was given that book, he didn’t plan to read it because he often finds “devotionals to be cheesy and shallow.” But eventually he did open it up and instead found God inspiring him through the pages.)

He also shared the book with his oncologist, a Christ-follower, who now has multiple copies in his waiting room for patients to read or take home.

Layne is especially excited to share his journey and help others find hope. He sends out personal updates, not only to his congregation, but to pastors in a large network of area churches he leads, as well as the school board on which he serves.

“I’m understanding scripture in a new way and feel like God is giving me insights for myself and for others,” he explains.

“God told me ‘I want you to look for armies of people who don’t know Christ’,” he adds.

Layne finished chemo a couple of months ago and radiation therapy last week, but won’t know for certain until next month’s PET scan whether the cancer is completely in remission.

Still “whatever happens my life is in God’s hands,” he declares. “I choose to place my trust in God whether I’m experiencing the sunshine of life or encountering storms.”

Sounds like Layne’s “compassion deficit” is no more.
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Open in your browser to hear one of Layne’s favorite songs: “Firm Foundation (He Won’t)”  with Maranatha Music.

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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.” ++++++++++++++++++++++