Happy?

Last week I was reading through one of my journals and found an entry that I thought was a blessing. It blessed me when I did the study on the word happy, and it blessed me again when I read it last week. I hope that it will be a blessing to you too.

"Many years ago, in the late 60s, a cutesy book came out titled, "Happiness is a Warm Puppy". I believe that it was written by Charles Schultz, the cartoonist who drew the Peanuts comic strip for many years. I loved that comic as a child, and it still brings a smile now that I am an adult. Anyway, each page in this book had just one line describing what happiness is and had a cute drawing. Of course, they were all things that could bring a warm, comfy feeling of happiness. However, all of them were based on what the world considers happiness. It was (and is) a sweet, feel-good book.

During Jubilee, a couple weeks ago (now several years ago), Pastor Rick Adams (from Portland, Ore) preached a message that made several references to happiness from the Bible. Ever since then, I have felt that it would be interesting to get out my Strong's Concordence and do a Bible study on the word happiness. Maybe it will bring me some victory (I was struggling with lots of depression during this time) or at least peace when I'm down in the dumps. So, here goes."

I will bring you more next time.

My Baby

It is hard to believe that my precious daughter turned 29 today. Rebekah has been and continues to be a tremendous blessing in our lives. I thank God that He allowed her to be born into our family. I would not trade her for anything.

As many of you know, the Lord only allowed us to have one child, and He allowed that child to have special needs. We suffered five miscarries and a total hysterectomy. At first we were mad and sad that our only child would be "different" from normal. It took God getting a hold of our hearts to change our thinking. Now, I am so grateful and praise God.

The Lord has used this wonderful child to teach me lessons that I would not have learned without her. (Some day I will blog about them.) She has brought joy to our little family with her corny jokes and her silly actions. She is the most laid-back, easy-going, hard-working (when she wants), smart, loyal, faithful, dependable, person that I know. She loves to read and listen to music. She loves to get on the computer and to learn all that she can about a subject. She loves to write and draw. She loves to shop whenever she has money (it burns a hole in her belly-bag and she can't wait to spend it.) She loves bright colors and sparkles and jewels. She loves the Lord Jesus and her Bible. She loves good preaching and teaching. She loves the Mercury 7 astronauts, especially Gus Grissom. She loves Richard Nixon and Phil Condit. She has pictures of them that she likes to look at every day. At times she is weird and crazy. At times she can be cranky, but not very often (usually when her medications aren't working.) And she loves Special Olympics, especially the Spring sports of track and field.

When she was born, I had all these dreams I thought she would fulfil for me. When we discovered that she was autistic, those dreams began to fade. When we found out that she also had mental illness, those dreams disappeared. Instead, God gave me a wider realization and understanding of the dreams that He had for Rebekah. I had to totally surrender her to Him and let Him do with her as He saw best. She is not "my" child, she belongs to the Lord and He has allowed me to be her mother, and I could not be any happier than I am with this precious daughter.

Finger Ouchy

"But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed." Isaiah 53:5

I have wanted to do some blogging but haven't been able to type until a few days ago. The picture is of my right index finger. Three weeks ago, I was opening a folding cot at the local Fred Meyer store. I thought that the legs on it would be stiff to open since it was brand new. I gave a little extra pull on them, and they came flying around. Before I could realize what had happened, the joint of the legs had caught and pinched my finger. I felt the edge of the sharp leg joint as I pulled them off of my finger. I knew then that it would be more than just a pinch. The cut was so deep that I could see the base of my fingernail. I quickly grabbed the finger as tight as I could so that it wouldn't bleed until I was able to get to the restroom. The pain was so bad that I thought I would vomit and pass out. I had to tell myself to take deep breaths and to keep walking. Once I got to the restroom I quickly and as gently as possible wrapped the finger with lots of paper towel.

Jerry, my beloved husband, had put the cot back in its case and was heading my way when I came out of the restroom. I told him we needed to go to Urgent Care because I was sure that it needed stitches. The pain was overwhelming, and I was not able to put on my seatbelt when I got in the car. It required both Rebekah and Jerry to tackle that task.

When we got to Urgent Care, I was able to get into a room within half an hour. That is quick considering how long I have had to wait at other times. It was then that I had to remove my left hand from my right finger. Then they soaked the finger in soapy water. Next, the doctor came in and began to clean the cut. The pain that had gone from level 10 to level 5 went right back up to level 9. (At least I didn't feel like vomiting anymore.) The doctor tried to be as gentle as she could, but she had to get the wound open to see how deep it was. She told me it was down to the bone and would require a couple of stitches. The skin was too thin to put in any more than that. At last, she gave me a shot to numb the area. It only brought relief to the immediate cut and the rest of the finger continued to hurt. Some of the worse pain was when the nurse came in later and tried to clean off the blood and apply the bandaging.

I was glad to finally get home and be able to take some pain medication. I had to take two which barely took the edge off of the pain. I thought that it would make me fall asleep, but instead it took me to a "mellow" place and got me to thinking about Jesus on the cross.

The pain that I suffered was nothing compared to the pain that Christ had to endure when he hung upon the cross. Spikes were driven through his hands and feet. He hung from them for many hours. The full weight of his body pulled upon the wounds in his appendages. To be able to breathe, he would have to force himself up which would only make the pain even worse. This was true torture. No pain medication did he receive. He refused to take any when it was offered to him. And why did he endure this excruciating pain? For my sins! For your sins! For the sins of the whole world!

All of the sudden, the pain in my finger felt like nothing in comparison to the pain that my Saviour suffered for me. Instead, it allowed me a tiny glimpse to what he felt. I truly cannot imagine all of the pain that Christ Jesus felt. It had to have been horrendous. And when I think of him doing that for me, I love and admire him even more.