Love

December 19, 2015

The Little Orphan Boy

Picture it. 1937. A skinny little boy with big brown eyes lying on his bed wheezing. His father gently picks him up and rushes him to the hospital. He has pneumonia. In those days the treatment for pneumonia was to remove a rib. Yes, you heard right. The little boy undergoes surgery and is finally going to go home.

When it’s time to be discharged the doctors and nurses are puzzled. Where is the little boys father? No sign of his mother either. No-one has even visited. Having no other choice they call child services and he is placed in a Christian orphanage.

I can’t imagine how he felt. The confusion of why his parents didn’t come to see him or why they didn’t come to take him home. “Where’s my Daddy?” must have haunted his thoughts daily. The fear he must have felt in being in a strange place and only four years old must have been terrifying.

The staff at the orphanage wasn’t even sure of his real name so they gave him a name that was similar to what they thought his name might have been. His dad’s penmanship was greatly lacking. They assigned him a date of birth, too. Little “Claudie” went about trying to adjust. Christmas and birthdays were the hardest. The local community would bring gifts for the children but the gifts were for all the children to share. One boys bike, a red wagon, game boards were for everyone. There were no individual gifts. He never mentioned his birthdays or how they were. I didn’t ask.

One day “Claudie” was asked to follow the lady to her office. There was someone who wanted to see him. Claudie’s heart jumped and almost beat out of his chest.”My Daddy has come to get me,” he excitedly thought. But he hadn’t. It was a couple who had been told they couldn’t have children and wanted to adopt him. A nice couple they seemed to be. Claudie was with them for four years and adjusted well. He felt loved and cared for and finally seemed to settle in.

It was during world war two and times were tough for families. His new mother learned she was pregnant. “We can’t afford two children” his new parents explained and returned him to the orphanage. Hurt, anger, confusion, and feelings of bitterness and being abandoned again caused Claudie many problems. He lashed out in his anger, he fought with other children. He stopped trusting. His heart was broken and no one could fix it.

He remained in the orphanage until he was seventeen and with the staff’s permission he enlisted in the Air Force. It was good for him but I can’t imagine how he felt being stationed in Korea during the Korean War and everyone receiving mail but him. Not one letter. Not one card, not one “We miss you and hope you are safe” did he receive in five years. It would break anyone’s heart. Did he walk away and leave the mail call far enough away that he couldn’t hear the names being called? How hard was it to shove down the hurt as he tried to avoid not hearing his name called? He never said how he handled that. He didn’t like to talk about it.

He didn’t turn to drugs when he was discharged. He didn’t become an alcoholic or anything like that. He did get in an ocassional fight but nothing serious. He soon married a sweet young thing. Big mistake. She had a violent temper and he never knew when she would blow. They were married for five years and she said she was going to visit a relative and disappeared. He never heard from her or ever saw her again. Abandoned again with no idea why.

That didn’t stop Claudie. His favorite saying was, “I’m just a poor orphan boy who came to the big city to seek my fortune.” It wasn’t far from the truth back then. He enrolled in night school and worked his tail off and passed the law exam on the first try. He received his law degree but he didn’t become a lawyer to practice law and make the big bucks. He used it in his law enforcement carrier. He was a Deputy Marshal and worked his way up to second in command.

Twelve years after his wife disappeared he married again and this time he got a winner. Oh, she had her own issues to deal with but they were a perfect match. Like Claudie she had known betrayal. She knew what it was like to not feel loved. She, too had previously had a violent partner. She worshipped the ground Claudie walked on, so to speak. He loved her, too. They traveled, they had fun together, they laughed, loved and seldom argued.

When they got married, for his wedding gift she gave him his very own bike with a small license plate with his name on it. Oh, how he loved that bike! “It’s mine? All mine?” He grinned from ear to ear.

Al & his bike

When Christmas came around she’d buy a package of socks and wrap each pair individually so he’d have lots of presents under the Christmas tree. The same with under wear or anything that could be divided up. She made sure there were plenty of gifts with his name on the tag. Claudie loved Christmas and he’d sit ripping open several packages laughing like a young child. She loved watching him and seeing the joy and sparkle in his eyes as he’d grab another gift and rip into it. She did the same for his birthdays, with a cake and candles. It didn’t make up for years past but it filled him with a sense of joy and love like he’d never felt as a child.

Looking her husband square in the eyes while placing his wedding ring back on his finger she would say, “With this ring I thee wed – until death do us part.” She’d quote that every time after a major surgery or some procedure the doctors said he had to remove his ring for. For five years, day in and day out, she cared for him during his debilitating illness. He had taught her what true love is. She wasn’t about to abandon the man God gave her as His special gift and she made darn sure he knew it! She was by Claudie’s side as he entered heavens gates and was greeted by the Savior.

The orphanage got his first name right as it turned out, Claude, but his birthday wasn’t what they told him. For years he had lived life with the wrong name and wrong date of birth. He just figured it was all part of life and moved on. He had stopped trying to find his relatives years before after so much disappointment and hopes dashed but he did finally find his original birth certificate – Claude Albert Cass – my beloved husband of eighteen years.

I hope they celebrate Christmas in heaven.

Merry Christmas

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June 8, 2015

What are you Looking for?

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Over the years many have watched, listened, and prayed within the sanctuaries of our churches. Many have visited just about every denomination of church in the Christian religion. Many have sat in the pews with people surrounding them and listened to pastor’s give the Word of God and yet felt as though the words came across hollow, empty, and dead.

Many joined a church to hear God’s truth, to be accepted, loved, and to be a part of God’s family only to be left in silence as the “click’s” gathered in their groups around the room talking and laughing. Standing to the side our heart hurts because we’re not a part of their elite little group.

Some of us have walked toward the front and seen the pastor smile but noticed his eyes don’t show the love of Christ. Some of us have experienced a counselor that sat in front of us asking his/her questions that leave us dull and numb. The words that are to encourage and lift us out of the depths of hell that we feel we’re in are more condemning than uplifting. The scriptures quoted are used as bats against our fragile psych.

It’s confusing because we thought the Lord said this was the church He wanted us to be in but the rejection, the false teachings, or the compromising of God’s Word to suit the needs of the pastor are going against the grain of what some of us was taught. So we leave only to visit yet another church and another and another only to find much the same.

Todays teaching of the gospel isn’t what we remembered from our growing up years. That is if we grew up in church. We’ve watched and witnessed people who shun the poor and those people that shout “praise God” and turn to add to the whispers of  gossip while they quickly wipe the smile off their face. We’ve had some who walk away when we smile and our “hello” sticks in our throat. Noses are turned up because our clothes don’t come up to their standard. Some of us have found ourselves swallowed up in a sea of humanity in the mega churches only to have warm fuzzies tickle our ears, sin is forgotten or excused.  We finally move on, another church, another congregation and each time we leave feeling dirtier than when we walked in or disillusuioned about what all this Christianity is about. Some never return.

Thankfully there are still a few that have found that church family that is loving, caring, and accept us, with a pastor who preaches God’s Word in love, who isn’t afraid to address the issues of our time and bring forth the truth from scriptures. Thankfully we can know that God, through Christ, is faithful and will lead us to what we need.

“What are you looking for?” the Lord asks.  In Our heart we want to be accepted, we want to feel the love of other believers who love God and His Son, who will listen and pray and be there as an encouragement. We want to hear God’s truth and to do God’s will. We want to feel as though we are a part of the family of God.

When the Lord asked me that my reply was, “Todays church is lacking.” “I know” the Lord whispers with tears misty in His eyes. “But what do I do?” I asked. The Lord ran His hand across His beard and stood looking at me for a long silent moment. I thought He might not answer.

“You go to worship Me,” He says gently. “No matter what the people do or do not do, no matter what reception you receive, You go to worship Me.”  Taking a step closer He adds, “There is no perfect church My child. Just people who are lost and looking but not finding.” “But…” He stopped me.

“If My Word is not being taught in truth you leave! If My Word is being taught in truth, you stay. The clicks you encounter are of no significance, it is My presence that is important.”  I nodded my head.  A slight smile tweeked Jesus face as He looked down at me. Placing His hand on my shoulder He gave my shoulder a slight squeeze. “You’ll be fine My child. Church is there for hearing My Word, for worship, and for fellowship. If the fellowship is absent, remember, I am there with you for it is My presence that counts. I sent you there for a purpose.” Then I awoke.

There are times when the Lord sends us to a church to be a witness, an example, to bring encouragment, or a warning to that body. We go in obedience.

“Whoever says he abides in Him ought to walk in the same way in which He walked.” 1John 2:6

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Blessings to you.

February 9, 2015

Can Light Penetrate a Black Heart?

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My child sized heart pumped fiercely as I ran away. Fear filled me. I felt like the devil himself was close behind breathing down my neck. “If he catches me I’ll never survive.” I scream out, “Jesus save me” but He didn’t appear at my door. (I thought He would come to my house and save me from the abuse.)

That’s when the devil got his foothold. The anger at God for rejecting my plea intertwined with the fear. The roots of disappointment and a lack of understanding was transformed into a bitterness that grew deeper. With each injustice, betrayal, hurtful word, and rejection another black spot replaced what God created. Hatred filled spaces unknown within a normal pulsating heart that was created to love. Instead of the red blood of Christ filling a beautiful, pumping pink organ, the enemies blackness was trying to fill it to the brim.

Life continued with struggles and the bitterness against man and God continued to grow. God’s light would try to penetrate my darkening heart but with snarled lips and vehement words God was rejected. “If there’s a God then why……..?” “Don’t talk to me about this so-called loving God!” was spewed out from a heart filled with pain, rejection, bitterness, and a hatred so deep it seemed no light could penetrate. God would step in but the door was quickly slammed shut.

God is a persistent God! He never gives up pursuing the lost. He didn’t give up then and He hasn’t now. He continued to chase me down and at my lowest point was standing there to pick me up. I accepted Him and He taught me much. With much love and patience He began healing the heart wounds from all the years of hurt and betrayal and gradually I learned who I am in Him. The blackening of my heart began turning grey. Some of the black spots of evil dissipated. But with a news report I learned it was still filled with hatred. The roots of hatred and bitterness still ran deep. I desperately needed surgery! The kind only Christ can do.

God’s light broke through the darkness within a dream. In the dream the flames within the cage roared about the body of man while ISIS stood watching with vile, wicked grins and slapping each other on the back for a job well done, I screamed out, “Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!” It wasn’t the man being burned alive, it was me! Just before I awoke, I glared at the evil men and said, “If Mohammed was here I would spit in his face!” I awoke suddenly with my chest filled so full of hatred that I thought I was having a heart attack.

The hatred grew within me until I thought my chest would burst. I prayed in English, I prayed in tongues, I asked God what was happening to me. At one point I felt I wanted to jump out of bed and scream at the top of my lungs. I didn’t because it would wake the whole subdivision. I couldn’t move. The chest pain continued until I thought my chest would explode right there in my bed. I prayed some more. I rebuked the devil to no avail.

Confusion swirled around in my head, “Was I feeling what Christ must feel?” I told the Lord I know He loves those people but, “Forgive me, I want them to suffer every scream, every cry for help, every pleading agonized breath and feel every pain that every person and every child felt, for all of eternity in hell!”

My chest grew, the hatred increased. It was vile, it was ugly. I could barely breath. I could taste the wickedness of it. I prayed some more. I cried out for understanding and even threw out the fact that Jesus got mad and threw tables around the Temple. “I can’t ask You to forgive them because You will if they ask, but they won’t!” And, “I won’t pray their heart be changed! They are Satan’s incarnates! That’s like transforming Satan’s heart! It ain’t going to happen!” My thoughts whirled around like a balloon skittering around a room when suddenly released of its air. One minute I was thinking like Jesus might want me to and the next I was lashing out with hatred.

I don’t know how long I spewed the vile hatred I felt for what is going on in this world. The evil that surrounds us all. I confessed, I quoted a couple of scriptures, I did everything I could to try to rationalize and try to understand what was happening to me. Had I not been wide awake I would have thought I was in the middle of a horrible nightmare.

Suddenly a thought dropped into the midst of all the praying, all the arguing and expounding on why I should hate these people,“You have hurt people, too.” That shut my mouth for a moment but then of course my first response was, “I haven’t chopped off anyone’s head! I’ve burned no-one alive! I’m not robbing and stealing and raping!” Then the realization took hold, I have hurt people with my words, some deliberately and some not. I have rejected others, and above all, I rejected God and His Son for many years.

The pain in my chest began to slowly dissipate as that realization took hold. A calming began to replace the pain of hatred. It seemed as though my chest was deflating slowly and as that realization of my own sin penetrated my heart I realized that maybe, just maybe, it was my heart that needed to be changed.

There was no glowing translucent light filling the room. No angels appeared in white robes. No heavenly choir songs rang out from heaven. There was only a hushed silence as I whispered, “Is it my heart that needs changing, Lord?” The pain suddenly vanished! I was left limp and exhausted.

Many of us have prayed, “Search my heart O’Lord.” He takes that seriously and in my case He used the evil of ISIS on a T.V. newscast to reveal the depth of hatred in my heart and not only to expose it and make me aware of its depth but to taste the vile bitterness of it. “Love the sinner, hate the sin.” I was hating the sinner as well as the sin.

We’ve all suffered pain of some sort. We all have areas of hurt. There are no pure hearts in humanity and He’s still working on mine. By His grace I am saved, not perfect.

“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.”

Ps. 139:23

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Blessings to you.

 

 

 

 

November 10, 2014

Dealing with Betrayal

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Betrayal can come in many and  various forms. It can be as simple, if you want to call it simple, as someone betraying your trust through telling another what you thought was told in confidence. There is the betrayal within marriages through adulterous behavior. Betrayal can come through domestic abuse. Maybe someone at your job betrayed you by lying to the boss. There’s many examples of how we are betrayed.

In my opinion (and many psychiatrists) the most damaging, deep, and most heartfelt betrayal is through a parent sexually abusing their child. From within the womb we are totally and completely dependent upon our mothers and fathers. Upon birth that dependence grows even more for the child. The child depends on the parents for nurturing, education, love for God, not to mention clothing, food, and housing. God instilled in us love. We are created to love and we do it naturally as a child. We love our parents regardless of anything they do.

Children are taught to hate, to distrust, to be suspicious and to take the blame. They were not born with that negativity. We’ve all seen cases where a child is horribly abused and yet they will protect the parent. It isn’t always that the parent/abuser has threatened them to keep quiet, it’s because of that God-given love instilled within us toward those who God chose to be our parents.

I was asked recently if after having been sexually abused if having my Dad admit to the abuse, if that was emotionally more difficult than the actual abuse. My answer was no, not for me. For me it was confirmation that the abuse really did take place. It stopped all the mind wrestling of whether it happened or not and put an end to the lies that were being told about it didn’t happen. But not everyone can answer that way. It is always very difficult to admit we have been betrayed. Especially if that betrayal was from someone we love.

Sexual abuse/incest is the most damaging of all abuse to a child. It attacks the body, soul, mind, and spirit of the child. The issues that are left from it are so vast it can take years to heal from the devastation. Most abusers will not admit their guilt. Many mothers will blame the victim or deny it happened or choose the husband over the child. Hopefully with disclosure becoming more prevalent that will change.

Who of us want to have to admit to ourselves that those who were given to us by God could do such a thing? Who wants to admit that the man we chose to love for the rest of our lives would sneak around behind our back in an adulterous affair? Or that our best friend would reveal a deep secret we shared, with someone else?

Betrayal will leave deep wounds. Whether they are bleeding wounds that we ignore, or ones that we continue to pick at is our choice. In the case of sexual abuse it may take years to heal those deep wounds. In Psalm 27:10 The Lord says, “Though my father and mother forsake me, the LORD will receive me.” Betrayal through abuse , by a parent, is forsaking the child! They have forsaken their God-given responsibility to care for, in a Christ-like manner, for the child that was placed in their care. Mothers and fathers that do nothing to protect the child, a co-conspirator, has emotionally, and in some cases physically, abandoned the child. Christ is there to receive you!

With any betrayal it is hard to “wrap our minds around” what was done. There is hurt, anger, denial, and eventually acceptance. We have a big choice to make. Do we forgive or do we continue to bleed? It can be mind-boggling to think that our own parents could betray us in such a way but if we do not release that hurt, through forgiveness, the betrayal will be like a gunny sack filled with rocks on our back.

With any form of betrayal do we choose to live with a heart filled with hate and bitterness toward those who have betrayed us or do we turn to Christ and give Him our pain? By holding onto the pain, not forgiving, we are bringing God’s judgment against us.  (Matt.5:22) We are hindering our prayers, (Matt.5:23) we’re causing a root of bitterness to take hold, (Heb.12:14-15) we’re allowing demonic strongholds to take hold, (Eph.4:26), and halting our healing (James 5:16).

Freedom from the heart wounds inflicted by an act/s of betrayal is obtained through our ability to seek Christ’s forgiveness and to offer our forgiveness to others.

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Blessings to you.

October 20, 2014

The Road to Life

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At first I saw God as my observer, my judge, keeping track of the things I did wrong so as to know whether I merited heaven or hell when I die. He was out there sort of like a president. I recognized His picture when I saw it, but really didn’t know Him. But later on when I met Christ, it seemed as though life were rather like a bike ride, but it was a tandem bike, and I noticed that Christ was in the back helping me to petal. I don’t know just when it was that He suggested we change places, but life has not been the same since.

When I had control, I knew the way. It was rather boring, but predictable, it was the shortest distance between two points. But when He took the lead He knew delightful long cuts, up mountains, through rocky places at breakneck speeds. It was all I could do to hang on!

Even though it looked like madness, He said, “Petal!” I worried and was anxious and asked, “Where are You taking me?” He laughed and didn’t answer, and I started to learn to trust. I forgot my boring life and entered into an adventure, and when I say, “I’m scared,” He’d lean back and touch my hand. I gained love, peace, acceptance, and joy; gifts to take on my journey, my Lord’s and mine. And we were off again.

He said, “Give the gifts away. They’re extra baggage, too much weight.” So I did, to the people we met, and I found that in giving I received, and still our burden was light.

I did not trust Him, at first, in control of my life. I thought He’d wreck it. But He knows bike secrets, knows how to bend to take the sharp corners, knows how to jump to clear high rocks, knows how to fly to shorten scary passages. And I am learning to shut up and petal in the strangest places, and I’m beginning to enjoy the view and the cool breeze in my face with my delightful constant companion, Jesus Christ.

And when I’m sure I just can’t do it anymore, He just smiles and says…”Petal!”

Name withheld – Angels by Grace – April 2003

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July 15, 2014

To … From Jesus

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How are you? I just had to send you this letter to tell you how much I love you and care about you. I saw you yesterday as you were walking with your friends. I waited all day, hoping you would walk and talk with me also. As evening drew near, I gave you a sunset to close your day, and a cool breeze to rest you. Then I waited, but you never came. Oh yes, it hurt me, but I still love you because I am your friend.

I saw you fall asleep last night, and I longed to touch your brow, so I spilled moonlight upon your pillow and your face… Again I waited, wanting to rush down so we could talk, I have so many gifts for you.

You awakened late this morning and rushed off for the day. My tears were in the rain. Today you looked so sad, so alone. It makes my heart ache because I understand. My friends let me down and hurt me many times, but I love you. I try to tell you in the quiet green grass. I whisper it in the leaves and trees, and breathe it in the color of the flowers. I shout it to you in the mountain streams, and gave the birds love songs to sing. I clothe you with warm sunshine and perfume the air. My love for you is deeper than the oceans and the biggest want or need you could ever have.

We will spend eternity together in heaven, I know how hard it is on earth. I really know, because I was there, and I want to help you. My Father wants to help you, too. He’s that way, you know. Just call me, ask me, talk to me. It is your decision…

Because I love you.

                                                                             Your friend,

                                                                                            Jesus

 

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Reprinted by permission and with appreciation to Harry D. Cup, WDBO Radio, Orlando, Florida