It's That Time of Year...

It is monsoon season in the high desert.

That means that storms can blow up literally in 5 minutes - first, we usually have the warning  of distant thunder, flashes of lightning here and there, and, if we are fortunate enough, we get rain.

Most often, we get verga, which is rain that evaporates before it reaches the ground. It seems to be a gray veil that trails beneath  the clouds.

But every now and then, the virga touches down and we get a drop.

Not a sissy bit of drizzle, I am talking a DROP. Then another DROP. Pretty soon, there is no dry spot between the DROPs and the wind whips in - I have seen it strong enough to blow flying birds backwards over the rooftops - and literally within 5 minutes the water is so deep on the roads that cars flood, and the water reaches to the tops of the hubcaps.

We call that "a flash-flood" here. They. Are. Dangerous.

Within a few minutes the roads have turned into raging rivers and cars begin to slide sideways, the inhabitants trapped in a moving object that is out of control and colliding with other moving objects, seemingly without warning. Once, we left the house with dry roads and blue skies and within a mile the rain had begun to fall and turned into a deluge that  obscured our vision and we could feel the current pushing against us. Happily, we escaped without damage, tho we passed collision sites as we carefully, ever-so-slowly picked out way through.

Others were not so fortunate.

Because rain is rare in the desert (which, of course, is why it is desert!) the ground becomes hard as stone. So when the rain does fall, the ground can't absorb it, and the flash-flood occurs. The cities prepare for this event by creating drainage ditches - called "arroyos" - that empty into one another, the same as natural creeks and rivers do, and what begins as dry concrete becomes 5 foot wide raging rivers of water that sweep away huge boulders (and anything else) in their way.

And in this city, the arroyos that have an overpass - providing a morsel of shade in our 99 9/10% of the time dry as a bone over 100+ degrees average summer temperatures - become home to many homeless folk.  The waters rise so quickly that every summer some are swept away and drown.  They try to help each other reach safety - in the process losing what little they have accumulated as possessions.

And sometimes kids think the waters would be fun to surf in (I kid you not) or even just to swim in. And every year there are PSAs warning people to not try to drive through moving water, and yet every year someone will decide they can handle it, it doesn't look that bad, and surprise surprise every year it *is* that bad and their car is swept away. So every year, some policeman/fireman/good samaritan will have to risk their innocent life trying to save the person who watched the PSAs over and over and *still* decide it doesn't apply to them.

Why do we do this?

We figure we are the exception to the rule and go merrily on to destruction.

This happens also when we look at God's rules - we try to bend/stretch/excuse our way and head straight for destruction until God in His infinite patience and mercy pulls us out of the destruction line and straightens us up a bit (sometimes a lot) and puts us back in the "to glory" line. And I know He erases the skids and turn-arounds and black heel marks where He had the scruff of my neck and pulled (hard) to keep me from falling over the edge coming up just around the bend.

The last hospitalization I had, the pain was so bad that I was reduced to moaning for 18+ hours (I thought I  was screaming but family assures me I was only moaning.)

I thought of Paul and his thorn, and how Paul ever after rejoiced in his infirmities.  I told God I really really needed  to see His "strength made perfect" in my present infirmity - And I was honestly infirm, helpless before this onslaught of pain.

Now, I don't know about you, but when I read that part about Paul's thorn, I always thought God *did* something to ease the thorn or whatever his thing was.  I thought He eased it, or decreased it or *something* to make it bearable.

But, just like Paul, God did nothing - nothing but reassure us we were in His hands, and He would get us through this with His power,

Oh, and power can't be seen.

So His strength is made perfect in weakness.

And weakness can't be seen either. At least not by human eyes. So, like Job said, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him."

Shortly thereafter, within an hour, give or take, a nurse called a palliative care doctor and she took care of the pain.

Would I have lasted much longer? I am sure I would have, according to God's will. His present choice was to keep me around for awhile, and for that while, His strength carried me.

No, the pain didn't immediately decrease. No I didn't "feel" stronger (I was actually complaining, as a matter of fact blush) I felt that I couldn't bear it any longer and finally kept saying. "Just let me die".

I am not a stoic example of a Christian. I am a wuss. When the pain finally went away, I savored the absence. There were other complications, but none that even vaguely approached that level of pain.

And the still, small voice said, "Was My strength sufficient for you?"

Ummmmm, yeah. (Said as I hung my head.)

But it leaves me in awe, Wondering how Paul did it. In an age where relief from pain was non-existent  How?  Paul took his eyes off of the pain and put them on God. I couldn't tear mine away from the pain. And yet Paul and Silas were imprisoned and in stocks after having their backs ripped open with a whip, ***singing Psalms*** They were physically unable to even shoo a fly away from their bleeding backs.  Obedient to what the Holy Spirit laid upon their hearts. Amazing enough for the jailer to also be in awe - and wonder that they didn't seize the opportunity to run from the jail when the doors miraculously opened. The jailer knew that he would be tortured and ultimately killed if he let any prisoners go free - he was preparing to kill himself. But Paul cared enough about the man who imprisoned them to call out, "Don't harm yourself, we are all here!"

In awe.

Layers upon Layers

If you are one of those who are ill right now, you are not alone.

Because I spend a lot of down time - literally down, either in bed or in my worn out recliner, which is about 13 years old, sort of shabby without the "chic" - I read a  lot. I have a daily regimen of about 3 chapters/day, depending on how large the chapters are.  As a result of this (and 45 years of reading thru the Bible  in a different version every year) I'm pretty conversant with Scripture.

That is, the English versions.

And I am slowly beginning to recognize different words in the Hebrew as I read.  I have been  studying the works of Danny Ben GIGI and Chaim Torah  - I highly recommend their work. They pull back the curtain a bit so one becomes aware of the difference in translation from the Hebrew to the English. There are currents beyond currents of meaning, layer upon layer, precept upon precept in the Hebrew that we simple folk are not taught as children.  The Hebrew, being God's native tongue, has winks and elbow-joggles galore, things that bring it to life, from my point of view. It is amazing. and all encoded.

The ancient Hebrew sages used to say that everything that happens is in the Bible. and with the discovery of the Bible Codes, that's pretty much a given.  They also used to say that there were at least 10 dimensions to life lived on Earth. Science is slowly catching up to them, only they are guessing more in the realm of 19 or 20.

We serve an amazing God. If you would like to read thru the Word in a year - or two 12 month intervals, go to the blueletterbible.org, and they have the amounts to read per day all figured out for you.

I have fallen in love with the memoirs of the old Testament -  our God is an Awesome God, indeed.  As I have aged, I have understood more of the subtleties  - and now with Dr, Ben Gigi's insights and writings, as well as Chaim Torah (Hebrew for "Life Torah", I've discovered so many things that I should have been aware of just because of the things they did *not* say. Their teachings have exposed me to hidden meaning in some passages and Hebrew holidays and their importance to understanding not only the Torah, but the rest of the Word as well. Their works are on Amazon or other booksellers and are available on Kindle or other readers as well. (and no, I am not getting paid for telling you about them. get a free sample on Amazon and see if it is something you would be pleased with.)

And I will pray heartily that they bless you - every time I pick one of their books up, I know I will be blessed . No "hi falutin'" giant words or intricate webs that lead you in and out so much you feel upside down! I do hope you try one of rhier books - and if you do, please let me know what you think.

Their books are the culmination of years and years of work, and we get to learn more about the Love of God towards us And those thoughts had all been hidden in the Hebrew. Layers upon layers of meaning - no human could have put things together in the precisely elegant, eloquent way our God has.

La Chaim!

Thoughtful... What do they see?

Thinking today about Jesus and His great love for us.

We receive His love 24/7 He knows when days are rough or difficult for us - He is using them to whittle us down, to conform us to His image.

That reality is difficult to imagine.

Me, conformed into His image.

Wow.

In American Sign Language, the sign for "Christian" is a combination of two components: the sign for Jesus + the marker for "person".

Literally, "Jesus person."

Am I living that way, tho? When folks are around me, do *they* see Jesus in my person? Do they feel that love that I receive so nonchalantly flowing through me to them?

Amy Carmichael, a missionary to India for more than 50 years, spent the last 10+ years of her life in bed, in pain from a fall into a covered ditch. How did she endure?
 
She once shared with someone who was feeling "put upon" at the moment: "See in it a chance to die."

Not an easy thing to do. I confess I am one of those who would like to live a Romans 12:1 life, but somehow I keep falling off of the altar. I am far from being perfect, as those around me can verify.

"See in it a chance to die."

Am  I willing to do that?  Willing to, in effect, *choose* the role of the foot washer instead of the one being washed? Not the poor, put upon, pitiful "saint", but a joyful and loving *chooser* whose 20/20 vision sees the chance to die to self - and does.

Oh please Lord, make it so.

Selah.

A big thank you to Mr.web runner for unlocking my blog -I thought I'd have to start over and that was A very unwelcome thought, indeed.

So...what's going on?

In January 2017, i began to become very ill, an AB probably would have coughed once and been fine. But for me, life doesn't 'work that way . Because of the Myalgic Encephalitis, nothing is simple. And because I couldn't move around much,,It translates into into a bowel obstruction .and then unleashed pain everywhere.One delightful add-on from ME.

The bowel obstruction cleared fairly quickly.

Unfortunately,  It stirred up my costochondritis, which is medical language for inflammation where the ribs insert into the sternum.  This time, the sternum ( the "breastbone} pain went thru the roof. It felt like a power tool ripping thru my chest.  All I could do was moan loudly, jt was embarassing and I tried to shut up, but the pain was so bad I couldn't. They were giving me the usual dose of morphine in my IV, 3 mg , and it did nothing.  ONe nurse got an order for Dilaudid and gave it right after the 3mg MS. Finally,after 15 hours of moaning, it released. I was sooo grateful!

But alas, the next day it began again, once more reducing me to moans.  All that existed was the pain and me.  I was begging for "somedy, please!" to help, but after 20 hours of it this time, I started begging them to just let me die.

When my bloodwork came back, the chemistry showed I'd had a small heart attack.  They wanted to do some cardiac testing, but I refused. I long ago decided to  be a DNR (do not resuscitate) . As a nurse, I know that CPR doesn't give you miracles every time like on TV, and the last thing I want is to be a problem for my family.

So when I got to CCU I made sure they knew. The pain was still crushing. They shot in another 5 of MS and some Nitroglycerine to oxygenate the heart muscle. One of the nurses, on her own, God bless her, called a palliative care doctor for me. She came in and evaluated me, And ordered a dose of MS 5x nomal -15mg . "We might need to go higher, " she said.  The nurse, eyebrows raised, said dryly, "Well, it will either stop the pain or put her into a coma."

It stopped the pain. Thank You, LORD!

The next day, an up and coming young cardiologist came in and tried to convince me to go thru the cardiac testing. He wouldn't give up.

Finally, I looked him straight in the eye and said:

"If I crash and you bring me back, I will sue your underwear off!!!!!"

l hadn't realized a nurse was in the room until she let out a guffaw. The doc laughed too and thru up his hands. "OK, OK1' he said, "I get it"

After 9 days in the hospital, I was really dizzy and weak. For every day you lay in bed you lose a week of conditioning They sent me to a nsg home to get back enough strength to be at home.

There went another 2 weeks.

Finally I was home! I coasted along slowly with a visiting nurse twice a week,

ON September 6th, my sil and I had planned to go out to dinner - It was my baby brother's birthday, who had died in 2003. I told her I needed a nap first. I felt exhausted, which is not unusual with ME.

About an hour later she was getting hungry and looked into my room. I was sleeping.

So she gave me another hour, until she was starving, and came in my room. When she couldn't wake me up, she realized I was in a coma.

She called 911, of course, and they checked my blood sugar.

It was 35 - a few above not breathing.

So I wound up in the hospital for about 15 hpurs. By God's blessing, I had no complications.

Then 2 weeks later, I fell and hit the door jamb.  My sil came running,  and when I started to sit up, blood was spurting everywhere. I had torn my scalp open on the jamb. Took around 13 stitches.

Since then, thank You, Lord, Ive been ok. (I'm hoping this year will go a little easier.)

The word I've picked for this year is "Savor."

Each moment, each day, each anything, I want to be fully aware of it.  I realized That I've not been treasuring my days, and @ 70 this year, I have not-so-many left. If you are reading this, I highly recommend it - it's already made a difference for me.

May the Lord richly bless you this year. Savor each day - and, please, remember that we are not promised a tomorrow, As the Psalmist said, "teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom." (I'm a little late putting this into practice - don't be like me!)
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