The Mender

When we hurt, God doesn't just leave us off in a corner till we get over it. (He cares very much about YOU and YOUR pain!)  And He wants so very much for us to run to Him and allow Him to be all that we need.  He is the One who made us.  Who best to take care of us?


                                        Gently...gently

                        Pain, weariness, wounds...
                        Their threads, strands and shards start to gather, and soon
                        form a mass that spins round me
                        like a personal moon.

                       Creator and Center of my soul-er system,
                       break into the dazing orbit,
                       eclipsing this and any satellite
                       that draws away from You my sight.

                       Stretch out Your Hand, that also knew pain's wrath,
                       and pluck the hurt-soaked ball from out its path.

                                    Then...Lead me to a quiet place.
                                               Restore my soul.
                                               Concede Your grace.

                       You might open Your fingers and throw away the pain,
                       or choose to close them and let the hurting stay
                               for reasons I must trust
                               though understanding little or not at all...
                               for sometimes, thus hidden and held
                               in Your gently-strong Hand,
                               pain can seem so immensely small!

                       Yet even when it appears to dwindle not at all,
                        I can cling to the remedy by far the best:
                        Knowing that the One whose Hand holds my pain
                        is the very One Who rocks the cradle of love in which I rest...
                                               rocks it gently...gently,
                                    as He gathers up and puts my tears away;
                                               gently...gently...
                                    as He stoops to mend this fragile jar of clay.
                                                                                                                  -Becky Rhon


I'm sure that you didn't ask for the difficult times you're going through, did you?  I certainly didn't!  But I know Someone Who CHOSE to experience horrible human and spiritual violence.  He knew it was the only way He could rescue us, take us into His arms...and mend us. His love for us left Him no other option...so He CHOSE to hurt...for us.  In a future post, I'll share a poem with this theme.

Remember that God loves you!

"Ready for Battle?" - a poem

I've been thinking about spiritual warfare (after writing the last post) and how we human beings don't always quite "get it". We try to do too many things by ourselves, on our own, for one reason or another (like maybe to show God and others -and ourselves- how well we're doing or how "spiritual" we are!)  Doing that is dangerous, especially when it comes to battle.  If we don't have the proper equipment, and learn to use it well, we enter the battle with a huge disadvantage that may lead to a heavy loss.

In this poem, God is speaking...

                                              READY FOR BATTLE?

                            Ready for battle?  You want to take part,
                            so you muster your skills and your tools and your art.
                           Your kit piles up as you saw, paste and hone,
                            pleased that you're gathering it all on your own.

             But how much protection will they really afford,
             your tinfoil helmet and rough wooden sword,
             your unshod feet and your poster-board shield?
             Is that how you go to the battlefield?

    I offer you all you must use for defense,
    guaranteed to hold up when the war's most intense.
    Don't rely on your own hand-made weapons, your "might".
    It's only MY armor that lasts through the fight:

                           my righteousness, truth, and my Gospel well-heard,
                           salvation and faith and the Sword of my Word.
                           Ready for battle?  All you need's been supplied,
                           so gear up, brave soldier! We'll fight side-by-side.
                                                                                                                       -Becky Rhon
                                                                                                             (see Eph.6:10-18)
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 Many writings ago, I mentioned that there was more than one factor involved in my collapse. It wasn't the "burnout" alone.  Another factor was  that I was found to have a hormonal imbalance.  Yet another was what we all suspected was our Foe trying to get at us by breaking our health.  Why did we arrive at that conclusion?  Because there were several of us women in the community who all started to suffer from  kind-of-hard-to-pin-down symptoms, with only tentative - even vague- diagnoses, at best.  When one after another of us ended up "sickly", it didn't seem a coincidence.

As far as I know, none of us ever regained complete health.  BUT...that didn't mean that our Enemy got the best of it!  I know that in my case, I have learned such valuable lessons and gained so much that I am stronger inside than before.  Outside doesn't matter as much.

(My health has actually gotten worse over the years, even after leaving Shell.   In case you're wondering, I have fibromyalgia, osteoarthritis, a couple of heart arrhythmias, with a dis-functional sacroiliac thrown in, along with a couple of other bothersome things. Pain is my daily companion. It's usually not too bad, and doesn't interfere too much with what I do. I take medicines, but every so often the pain is so bad it makes me weep.  But I am so thankful that I can still do housework, play the piano, write, cook - one of my hobbies -... and all my senses work!  So many people can't walk, or talk, or see, or hear...)

If YOU, who are reading this, are going through tough times, especially with discomforts and pain, don't let our spiritual Enemy get you down!...or if he manages that, don't let him keep you from reaching out for Jesus' hand to pull you right back up again!

God loves you so very much!  

I TOLD you there was Evil! / "Other Gods", a poem

In an early post, entitled "If I may interrupt myself?" I told you about a dream I had before going to Shell. In the dream, there seemed to be evil trying to find its way in. (Look up that post and see the context.)  I want to tell you a bit about a day - just one day - in which Evil's troops decided to make their presence felt in the missionary community in Shell in an unforgettable way.

I don't remember the order in which these things occurred, and I don't think I've remembered them all, but they were out-of-the-ordinary events, things which pretty much "never happened", especially all on one day!

1) A missionary man somehow oddly got his head whacked really hard with a piece of lumber.
2) A missionary youth fell from his bike and really scraped up his arm badly crossing a little bridge...that was only a few feet long and took only a second or two to cross!
3) Another missionary youth broke his leg. But who breaks his leg playing ping-pong?
4) Germán's maintenance team found a mother snake - very venomous fer-de-lance - actually on the compound grounds, along with something like 18 little very-alive babies. Even babies are dangerous.  They very rarely come out into the clearings, much preferring the familiar terrain of the jungle. And suddenly there were 19 of them in our back yard!

 I'm sure anyone who was living there at the time remembers these things well.  Our whole community was on the alert, since this wasn't normal. We wondered at these things happening all on the same day, one right after another.  Then we found out why...

One of the missionary colleagues was holding a workshop on spiritual warfare with some of the indigenous people who had come in from the jungle. Witchcraft is rampant in the indigenous tribes, and doesn't appreciate being countered...especially by teachings from the Word of God on how to defeat them! No, Satan's minions couldn't let that go by, so they decided to throw a tantrum and "strut their stuff" for us! Of course, they only made us pray all the more for the workshop in progress!

One of our Enemy's favorite activities is trying to mess up believers' lives, by whatever method works.  What we witnessed in Shell that day was out in the open. But we have to keep alert to the fact that most of his work is "undercover", and much more difficult to pin down, but it's a constant, and his purpose is always to do what he can to lure you away from God. So keep your Sword sharp, you armor rust-free, and your Shield in good repair.

                                                 Other Gods

                            Other gods around me whisper, "Feed on me!"
                            They're stirring up a double batch of devil's-food puree.
                            They offer crisp confusion served with insincerity,
                            the sweet-and-sour promises
                            of things that will not be.

                           Other gods around me whisper, "Drink of me!"
                           They dip into their potion spiked with chilled adversity.
                           They're brewing up a pot of irresponsibility,
                           with sweet-and-sour promises
                           that curdle and deceive.

                           Other gods around me whisper, "Live for me!"
                           They're offering their masterpiece of inconsistency:
                            the mystic, mindless methods of their mediocrity,
                            the sweet-and-sour promises
                            of chains that have no key.

                            But You, Lord - You alone - must feed my creativity,
                            for other gods would cost my heart its receptivity
                            to love and laughter, light and life, to authenticity,
                            to never-broken promises
                            that keep my spirit free.

                            You alone must always be my heart's security,
                            my fortress when bombarded by these "cool commodities",
                            the soul-spring of this headiness of unrestricted glee
                            that joys away the other gods
                            till only You I see!
                                                                                        -Becky Rhon
                                                                            ("for the joy of the Lord is your strength" -
                                                                                        Nehemiah 8:10)
                                                                           

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May God be the One that "feeds" you always!  Stay alert!  See you next time.
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(By the way, this poem has an alternative title: The Menu.
If you would like to use my poetry, PLEASE let me know!  Thanks!)

Pray for HIM, not for me!!

The friend who was organizing the ladies' "convention" (retreat) continued to tell me she really wanted me to be a speaker, as I had been for previous retreats. My "no" somehow didn't register.  I had explained why, but I think she was looking at it through her own experience - she had told me (a tad sheepishly) that she herself wouldn't have let her husband's opinion keep her from doing something like this.

The date of the retreat was getting nearer and nearer, and when we'd meet she'd say, "I'm praying that you'll change your mind"...to which I'd reply, "As long as my husband doesn't change his mind, I won't; so if you want me to say 'yes' pray for HIM, not for me!"

The date got closer and closer...and one day Germán said to me that he'd been thinking that maybe he was putting an obstacle in the way of my doing something God wanted me to do...so, if I felt I should accept the speaking invitation, I should go ahead and do it. Basically he said, "I leave it up to you. You decide."

I knew I could most likely prepare the material in time, but I didn't feel comfortable just accepting "right off the bat", without thinking it through. So the next Sunday I stayed home from church, alone, to do just that, and pray. Please, Lord, let me know what I should do! I tried to think of the pros and cons. And He, too, answered, "I leave it up to you. You decide." Then He added, "Whichever way you choose, I'll bless you."

I knew my husband had a valid reason for not wanting me to do this, and I decided to respect that and go to the retreat as one of the many campers. Know what?  I had a great time!  Speakers on occasions like this tend to be regarded as if they're on a different level, not quite so approachable. Now, for the first time, I was just one of the group, and I found that it made me more approachable. More and more of the ladies chatted with me, or confided in me, and were more relaxed.

That was one blessing.  Another was that my friend still sought me out for confirmation and opinions, as she always had before, so I continued to be a support to her even when I wasn't officially one of the leaders.  (She is a very talented organizer; she just needed to have someone with whom to go over things.) This made me feel that I hadn't "abandoned" her! (Another special "extra" He gave me was the opportunity to sleep at one of the missionary homes near the retreat center, as I wouldn't have lasted long in the dorms, with all the noise!)

The main theme for the retreat was "Gifted to Serve", the speaking centering on the gifts God has given each one of us, and I had written a theme song for the retreat with that in mind.  The last night was a big wrap-up of activities, full of fun and joy...before the ladies headed back to their respective homes scattered throughout the country.  I had one more "gift" for them.

I had noticed during the retreat the singularly funny things that happened or were said, things that stood out. I suddenly got the idea of compiling them into a "forecast" of what we would all be like 50 years later. I placed us all in an  Old Ladies' Home, and then, choosing a dozen or more of the funny things, described each one within that context, telling a story that was...amusing.  No, that's not the word...it was

HILARIOUS!! Up on the platform, reading them all this "prophetic" story, I could see and hear the women laughing so hard that some of them were bent over double, clutching their stomachs, and a few were almost literally "rolling in the aisles". (Later, everyone clamored for a copy of the story to take home.) I think this was another of the blessings He had promised. I'm sure His sense of humor is fantastic...it has to be for Him to have given us one! I think He put the idea in my mind for this story that provided a detail that would always link us and be a sweet reminder of the good time He had afforded us.

Thanks for "listening" to me as I remember all this, and sharing through my eyes the experiences of God's tender and undeserved goodness!

I Know How You Feel

All three deaths occurred within a short time span.  One woman was on her way home by bus when it crashed, killing her and severely injuring her adolescent daughter.  A little seven-year-old boy died of kidney failure. A teenage daughter died of cancer.

There seemed to be a pall over the community. One morning when I went up, as usual, to play the piano at the church, it felt like everyone's collected grief went with me...and this song was wept into being.

Let me share a translation of the words with you, even though they don't rhyme or "flow" like the original in Spanish.  It's the message behind the words that I'd like you to hear.
 It's called "I Know How You Feel".

       Sometimes I ask, "Lord, WHY?"
       Sometimes it seems like I can't go on.
       Not able to understand it, I ask for more faith,
       and You answer, "Child, I know why.

       " I know how you feel as you struggle to go on.
        I know your pain; I know what it is to suffer.
        I know how you feel - I, too, have wept.
        I have knelt in agony.  I can understand."

        Then I hear You say, "Child, why
        don't you rest, and trust Me? I didn't make a mistake.
        I'll gather you into my arms and comfort you.
        I'll lovingly dry your tears of sorrow.

        "I want to give you my peace, heal your wounds.
        Through your trial and pain, I keep on loving you.
        Child, you are of eternal value to Me.
        Put your hand in mine; I'll help you walk on."

I knew I had to share it with the church, but I also knew I could never sing it without crying.  So I taped it, and had it played in the next Sunday morning service.  I had written the lyrics in the church bulletin so people could follow along, and then have the words to keep.  The response of those who were present assured me that this was, indeed, a gift of comfort to the congregation...from their loving Lord.
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Two months later I was asked to do something which I had done on several occasions: speak at a national women's retreat. I was feeling better, and likely could have done very well, but this time I said "No".
Why? Simply because when I asked my husband about it, he said "no". How could I get up in front of all those women and teach...when in order to do so I'd have to disobey my husband?

The end result of this was awesome!  It turned out so much better than I ever imagined!  Next time, I'll tell you about how God took this situation and brought great blessing from it.  See you then!