Author: Amy White

April is the month in which we begin to exhale. The exodus out of the winter doldrums has finally begun with certainty and we joyfully say good-bye to the gray and dull landscape of barren trees, dirty roads, and brown hills. The fragrance of the hyacinths and fresh spring air are nearly intoxicating as we stroll along the garden path. We delight in the cheerful yellow daffodils and the multi-colored tulips that seem to have magically appeared and shout, “For lo the winter is past!” An excitement begins to energize us as we anticipate the lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer. We have a renewed sense of hope!

Hope – such a powerful, motivating force. Without it we sink in the mire and get stuck in all that is discouraging. Proverbs 12:13 says, “Hope deferred maketh the heart sick: but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life.” There are times when we go through cold, dark days, regardless of the season. While there, we struggle to move forward, to dream of and work toward building a future. It is only when we catch a glimmer of hope that this season ends. This ray of hope can come in many different forms: a loving reminder that someone cares; a long-awaited answer; an unfulfilled longing met; awareness that we are not in this chaos alone. As I look back, I am grateful for those who carried this message to me and were the impetus to turn things around. I, too, want to be a giver of hope when I see another soul struggling as I have.

God is in this business of being a giver of hope as well. Consider the promise found in Jeremiah 29:11: “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” What an encouragement to all of us, that the all-knowing, all-powerful, ever present God of the universe has a plan for each of us and it’s a good one.

As we enjoy all the wonders of creation declaring its splendor this season, may we be reminded of the one who made it all and who loves us beyond anything we can imagine. May we all be hopeful because of it and in turn be His instruments to deliver a message of hope to a sometimes dark and dreary world.

Accidents happen—like when my five-year old grandson did a face plant after attempting to step from the couch to the TV cabinet (which he wasn’t allowed to do). Amidst tears and shrieks galore, my daughter rushed him to the bathroom to assess and treat the damage. His terror was heightened with every drop of blood that sprayed across the furniture, walls and floor. Wanting to alleviate his fear, his twin brother came to the rescue. “Don’t worry; I’ll clean it up so you won’t have to be afraid!” He exclaimed and then kicked it into high gear with dish rag and paper towels in hand. These two little boys have their times of anger and frustration with one another, even fisticuffs and competition, but this genuine act of kindness revealed the true nature of their relationship. No matter our age, all of us need to be shown by the actions of those we love that they care for us, have our back, and will be there when the going gets tough. By the way, when his mom told our little helper that he did a great job, his response: “Yeah, but it was d-i-s-g-u-s-t-i-n-g!” Well, I guess he too is learning that love is not always easy!

I am now going into the third week of the cough that never ends. It shared Christmas with me, New Year’s Eve, a broken tooth, a visit to the dentist— who attempted to put on a crown while I coughed in between the Novocain and the drill (fortunately the dentist won). It puts me to sleep at night and greets me in the morning; it is my new best friend and goes everywhere I go. I am going to buy more cough medicine today and Alka-Seltzer night time cold and cough because two people have now told me it works. Someday it will be gone and I will struggle to remember our time together. That’s what they tell me any way. My cough is like many things in life. It drives me crazy but makes me appreciate feeling well, the beauty of a good night’s sleep, and the pride of looking well-groomed (as compared to the dark circles, runny eyes, and fits in the middle of the store). So, I guess even those things that seek to consume us, in the end, have contributed to our well-being. Happy New Year!

I recently had the opportunity to speak briefly with two women I had never met before. These ladies were meticulously dressed and appeared to be in good health. By outward appearances, they seemed to be doing quite well. As we talked in more depth, however, it became apparent that each were struggling in different ways. The first woman was in her eighties. Her husband of sixty years died four years ago and she expressed that she missed him more and more as the days passed. She said that it was supposed to get easier but it only got harder for her. It is likely that the holiday season heightened her grief, but nonetheless, her heartache was evident. The second woman was in her late sixties or early seventies and was still working. She had been in the same role for a long time and was bored. She said she kept praying for what God had for her next and struggled every day to go to work. My heart went out to her. These two conversations reminded me that most folks are struggling with something, be it big or small to the rest of the world. I also thought how important it is for all of us to take a few moments to connect and share in one another’s lives. We live in a superficial age. Exchanges tend to be quick and brief with our texting, emails and messaging. I appreciated knowing these ladies on a deeper level even if we are not to meet again. In a strange way, I felt filled by their sharing. I was blessed to experience the connection with them. My goal this season is to do more of this and less of ‘that’- all those other things that rob us of the relational rewards we reap by investing in the special people God would bring our way.

Everyone has a story and recently I was privileged to hear one. I have to admit the beginning was rough. A sordid tale of repeated victimization and injustice unfolded. It was not the first time I had a glimpse into a life replete with undeserved pain and suffering. People who should have been nurturing and caring had been the antithesis. Once again I wondered how someone can survive the level of trauma expressed in the shared words. Then the plot took a turn, for in the midst of a life of chaos, an unexpected hand had reached into a dark world and offered help. A listening ear provided understanding and support. One step was taken to change the circumstances, then another and another. The storyteller shared an insight recently gained: the idea of choice and the ability to do things differently. Relief. Applause. Joy. The process of redemption had begun. The road to healing will be long but a path was being forged and a new chapter started. It’s the holiday season and a blessed time of year, as it should be. We celebrate the birth of Christ, the light of the world and I find myself being especially grateful for those who go to places that may be uncomfortable. They have learned to love unconditionally, like He did. As a result, the lost are found and the dead are brought back to life. God bless us everyone.

Recently my husband and I went away for the weekend. We decided to leave Thursday evening to avoid Friday morning’s rush-hour traffic. We drove a couple of hours and stopped to get a room for the night. Easy check-in; no problem. We parked the car right near our ground-level room and with suitcase in tow, I approached the door and swiped my key card. After pushing it open just a crack, I was startled to see the TV on and to hear voices from an elderly couple already nestled in bed for the night: “Hey, what are you doing!” I pulled the door shut as fast as I could, while at the same time mumbling that I must have been given the wrong key. I was grateful I wasn’t attacked or worse! We explained what happed to the desk attendant and then settled into a new room (which we got at half price). In the morning we hit the road without encountering any more hiccups and landed at the motel where we had previously made a reservation. After registering, the desk clerk was pleased to inform us that we were being upgraded to a suite at no extra charge. We took the elevator to the eighth floor and found our room. Insight we were greeted by a magnificent ocean view that scanned the beach and looked out for miles across the sea. Sliding open the wall-to-wall doors allowed us to hear the soothing sound of the waves rolling onto the shore. A Jacuzzi tub, sleep-number bed, and large TV were the icing on the cake! It was fabulous! Two very different experiences—both unexpected. Adventures are exciting, even small ones. If nothing else, we have great stories to share when we get back! We need to be certain the rocking chair on the front porch gets dust on it now and then.

I recently attended an event where I reconnected with some folks that I had not seen for decades. (I wondered if they were as surprised as I at the changes produced by life and time). It was weird, in my mind’s eye I watched the video flashbacks of my world all those years ago—where I lived, what I did, what I cared about. I saw me, the young woman, the new mom, the naïve person who had so much to learn. It was delightful and strange at the same time. I was also keenly aware of the multitude of events which had transpired between then and now. So much had happened and it all went so quickly. Often when we have these experiences we contemplate what really mattered. That’s a worthwhile exercise but this time I thought more about the details. While some decisions are big ones—whom we marry, where we live, what job we take, there are so many small, day-to-day choices that have just as much impact on the end results: how many times I told the special people in my life I loved them; the Bible readings and prayers; the visits to see and enjoy those who weren’t close by; the people who I allowed into my world who knew me and cared enough to say things like “Stop that” or “What are you doing.” None of these seemed necessarily monumental at the time, but cumulatively they produced such significant outcomes. The days may be long and the years short, but those long days, if used well, contribute much toward a happy ending.

Yesterday at 6:20 am I got in my car to go to work, turned the key, and click. I tried again. Nothing. I asked my husband to jump it for me, hoping it was just a dead battery. (That was unlikely since the battery was less than two-years old). It didn’t work. We called AAA and they tried to jump it. That didn’t work either. Then the nice man from the towing company loaded my car onto his 5-month old flatbed and took it to the mechanic around the corner. A short-time later they called and said it was the starter. I prayed the cost wouldn’t be more than $500. It was $499.97. (I should have prayed it wouldn’t be more than $300–haha). Stuff happens and then more stuff happens. These are the things in life that what we can’t control. What we can work on, though, is the level of anxiety that gets aroused when life interrupts our plans and sense of security. I wish I could say that I’ve nailed it; I haven’t. I have improved though. Now my reaction is somewhere around anxiety-level four instead of anxiety-level ten. That’s progress. (In part this is a result of establishing Plan B: introducing my children to the idea that they may have to take care of me some day. They’re still talking to me so that’s a good sign). The truth is a bad starter, while not in the budget, is not that big of a deal in the whole scope of life. If we don’t sweat the small stuff, when bigger challenges rear their ugly heads, we just may have the emotional reserves to effectively handle them. So, when the orange juice spills or the baseball goes through the window, take a deep breath and then have a good day anyway.

In a recent group discussion about forgiveness one of the participants made a comment: “Sometimes we have to forgive God.” I was taken aback by the statement because it implied that God has the capacity to do something ‘wrong’ that might warrant confession, an apology and the transaction of forgiveness. This god is imperfect and makes mistakes. I was reminded of a professor I had in college. She was an ordained minister and taught her students that god is still in process, just like us. She reminded us that god has not yet arrived and we should be patient with him.

These views represent a god that is not the God I believe in and frankly, would never want to. He is too small for me to ever entrust my life to him. I don’t want to put my faith in a god that may or may not deliver. This perspective necessitates autonomy and independence. It requires that I be the master of my universe because no one else is capable.

On the other hand, the God of Scripture is revealed as all-knowing, all-powerful, ever-present, and without sin. Angels bow before Him. He is the Creator who walked across the universe to make himself know to his children. He sacrificed His son to save us. He is far beyond what I can conceive of but the one whom I know with confidence is able to hold my life in the palm of His hand. He is with me in both the good times and the bad.

In Psalm 31:9-14, David cries out to God in anguish, but catch the last line.

Be merciful to me, Lord, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow,
my soul and body with grief. My life is consumed by anguish and my years by groaning; my strength fails because of my affliction, and my bones grow weak. Because of all my enemies, I am the utter contempt of my neighbors and an
object of dread to my closest friends—those who see me on the street flee from
me. I am forgotten as though I were dead; I have become like broken pottery.
For I hear many whispering, “Terror on every side!” They conspire against me
and plot to take my life. But I trust in you, Lord; I say, “You are my God.”

David knew he could lean on the one true God, whether he was slaying Goliath, conquering the Philistines, or in the dark days that nearly consumed him. David’s God is and was and will be ever more and we have the privilege of being part of the same family. This is the God who is worthy of my trust—He’s big enough for that and so much more.

This weekend I watched my grandson while his parents had some much needed together. It was a delight to have one-on-one time but there were a few sad faces when he was aware of missing mommy and daddy. One such occasion occurred after breakfast. In an effort to stop his tears, I took him outside. My scheme worked and he began laughing as we played crash (basically him running into me). After a few minutes, though, he looked straight at me and said, “I’m not having fun.” I guess he needed me to know that he was still upset. Kids are too cute. His comment did remind me that we humans are complex creatures and emotions aren’t mutually exclusive. It is quite possible to be happy, sad, afraid, and angry—all within a relatively short span of time or even at once. Consider when we are grieving the loss of a loved one and the pain is so great. After the shock wears off and we again begin to experience joy and laughter, we sometimes feel uncomfortable as my grandson did. Maybe we have guilt or even worse, are terrified that we’re moving on and leaving this special person further and further behind. That’s when we are at risk of shutting down in order to manage the tension these contrary emotions and false beliefs can create. We are in danger of becoming an emotional stone, unable to feel anything, positive or negative. My grandson’s feelings were appropriate for a two-year old but we become dysfunctional adults if we don’t learn that to be able to find joy in someone or something God brings our way, even in the midst of the most challenging circumstances, is healthy. In fact, it’s therapeutic. So, it’s like the old song,
Smile though your heart is aching
Smile even though it’s breaking
When there are clouds in the sky, you’ll get by
If you smile through your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
You’ll see the sun come shining through for you