HE Never Shuts Them All!

I was so depressed when I thought I wouldn't be able to involve myself in the ministries that were available. I was supposed to be my husband's helpmate!  Then God gave me Revelation 3:8:
 
           "I know your deeds. See, I have placed before you an open door
            that no one can shut. I know that you have little strength,
            yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name."               

I realized that He would never shut ALL the doors! For now, He had shut most of them...knowing as He did (and I could only see in hindsight) that I needed to rest and re-orient myself. I had much to learn...maybe this was the only way I'd stop and process things, and He could reinforce the importance of being ready to walk through the doors HE opened, not necessarily the ones I thought would be best. My strength wasn't the prime factor. HIS strength and wisdom were what carried the day. And all I had to do was "keep His word and not deny His Name". Why do we make it harder for ourselves than it really is? 




                                          Open Door  
              
                                Don't we often pry a door open,
                                knocking over and over again,
                                trying to make it move an inch
                                so we can stick our foot in
                                to keep it from shutting?

                               Or maybe we try a battering ram,
                               heaving it over and over again,
                               watching the door fill with dents,
                               muttering under our breath,
                               "All things are possible"?

                               How much time do we waste
                               begging over and over again,
                               using our tries, cries and sighs
                               to pick the locks
                               which only He has keys to?

                               Sometimes we just sit and stare,
                               wishing over and over again,
                               so sure it's that door;
                               holding our breath...
                               willing it to creak open.

                               Don't we also give up at times,
                               closing our eyes over and over again
                               to any door at all?
                               Choices...doubts...confusion...
                               It's easier to be blind.

                               If you've never seen that door open,
                               you really don't know
                               what's behind it, do you?
                               But He does...
                               that's why it's closed.

                               If it was opened to you once
                               but then He closed it,
                               you would do yourself harm
                               to yearn for what's past,
                               not thinking of what's before.

                               Because, Jesus said, "See,
                               I have placed before you
                               an open door
                               that no one can shut."
                               Do you know what that means?

                               You don't have to force the door open,
                               trying over and over again,
                               stumbling over disappointments,
                               oiling rusty hinges.
                               The door He's pointing to is already open.

                                Are you afraid of what's behind it?
                                Don't be.
                                He'll walk through it beside you.
                                Holding His hand, looking into His eyes...
                                you'll understand.
                                                                                                       (Becky Rhon, Nov. 1986)
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Useless...? (And then a poem about September 11)

That's how I often felt. Even as I started regaining my strengths (physical, emotional, spiritual, mental...), I still couldn't do so many of the things that I wanted. I remember standing at my kitchen window watching as a newly married couple, workers in the hospital, made their tired way back to their little cabin, happy but exhausted after the trip back from their honeymoon.  My first reaction was to send one of my kids out to invite them to come over for supper after they'd rested. They wouldn't have to cook and would have more time to recuperate before going to work the next day.  I stood there watching them, with tears raining down my cheeks...because I knew I couldn't do it.

I gradually started taking up some of my former activities, but never with the same intensity, and always trying to remain balanced.  Lying in bed one morning, I was trying to decide whether to do something or not (can't remember what). I had just read Philippians 4:13, but in another version. This one didn't stop at "all things", but said, "I can do all the things that He asks me to..."  I suddenly felt Jesus again at the foot of my bed. He said, "I'm asking you to rest."

One day Germán made a very telling comment.  He said, "I'm really so sorry to see you like this...but it's  nice to have you home more often." That simple sentence really made an impression!

Of necessity, our family started making the priority changes that would help us all work together and become closer. I was able to do quite a bit, as long as I measured my strength and spaced my activities with enough rest periods. Even so, during the next year I would sometimes get depressed, thinking that I would never really be able to help my husband in whatever ministries God had for us.

But God knew otherwise!  Reading a verse in the Bible, it jumped out at me, with neon lights, and filled me with gratitude. Revelation 3:8 says, "I know your deeds. See, I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut.  I know that you have little strength, yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name."

God would use me somehow, somewhere, in something! In spite of my limitations...that makes sense, because MY limitations don't limit God in the least! And a door that no one could shut. Besides that, He emphasized to me again that He was perfectly aware of my lack of strength. (Just in case I'd forgotten!)

In my next post I'd like to share another poem with you, written right after this verse became part of my life. I hope you'll join me!
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I only now realized it was September 11th!  Some of you have already read my blog, but for those who haven't, here's the poem I wrote soon after that awful historic event.

                     WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?

What were you trying to buy when wholesale, indiscriminate evil exploded into the air,
saturated with victim-innocence and terrorist-guilt?
Death?
Fool!  Everyone has already bought his death many times over with his own sin .
We needed not your sin to make us die.

What have you done?
What were you trying to buy? Life?...for yourself, in Paradise?
Fool, again!  Only one person could ever buy life with His death.
Gloat not over our grief, for you have been cheated!

You wanted to wrench open a pit from which your hatred and chaos
would spill out and strangle us.
Instead, out of the searing wound flow the pain, with prayer and patriotism;
the sorrow, with serenity and steadfastness;
the heartbreak, with healing and hope.

You wanted the sores you inflicted to ooze anguish, dread and despair.
Instead, they are closing over with cleansing calm and compassion.

You drooled in savage anticipation of draping our nation's coffin
with the skull and crossbones.
Instead, you must gnash your teeth as you watch us cover it proudly
with the Stars and Stripes.  (Oh say, can you see?)

You tensed your soul to hear desperate dirges and defeated death chants.
Instead, you must stop your ears as strains of strength echo in our hymns.
Our voices break, perhaps, but not our wills, nor our courage.

The scars you meant for ignominy
we will wear as a memorial to faith and freedom.

You laugh at the mountain of rubble.
But we will laugh last,
for what you mock is a giant anvil on which we will reshape the steel of our people,
on which God can reshape the steel of our souls.

We have one thing in common with you.
For God extends His cords of kindness and love to all.*
Our founding Fathers let themselves be drawn to Him, a firm foundation.
We must all do the same once more.

If only you had reached out and clung to Him,
He, and only He, would have given you the Paradise you sought...
the Paradise He bought...
Instead, it is He whom you've pierced most deeply.
It is He whom you've hurt most obscenely.
It is He whose heart bleeds most cruelly for His bruised and broken creatures.

And it is He who weeps, and calls out to you,
"Cain!  Cain...what have you done?
Listen!
Your brother's blood cries out to Me from the ground."**

                                                                                                      Becky Rhon  (Sept. 2001)
* - Hosea 11:4
** - Genesis 4:10

A raw soul...

What was it like? What was going on inside of me during this journey through each day after I collapsed? For two or three weeks (longer, maybe), I accompanied my raw soul as it sought to right itself after being turned upside-down. It's hard to try to describe it, so I decided that I would share with you a poem that I wrote as I was finally coming to the end of that phase which, though not the only one, was the darkest, and I was starting to get my legs under me once again.

This poem has never been included in any of our prayer letters, and the only people, so far, who have ever seen it are some family members. So most of you will be seeing it for the first time in print! Back then my poems were few and far between, and not necessarily intended for "public consumption" - except for a few humorous ones I wrote for different people and events. This poem may not seem all that "polished", but its purpose was to capture something of the essence of what I was going through and Jesus' presence, so that I would never forget.


                                YOU WERE THERE 

                         You were standing right beside me
                         when my soul went into shock.
                         I was dizzy, weak and trembling,
                         and though numbed from any feeling,
                         You were there, my Solid Rock.

                         As I stumbled from the table,
                         feeling like an empty shell,
                         as I sought dark, quiet aloneness,
                         panicked in my barren dryness,
                         You were there, my Living Well.

                         When my heart regained some feeling,
                         tender, sore, with pains to lend;
                         when I needed peace and quiet,
                         when I needed calm and stillness,
                         You were there, my Gentle Friend,

                         Frequent teardrops made their music -
                         sometimes quiet, sometimes strong-
                         and note by note your love-drops mingling,
                         bathing hurts, refreshing, cooling...
                         You were there, my Soothing Song.

                         Struggling still to find a balance,
                         find a way that I could cope,
                         You let me hear your words of comfort,
                         words of peace and understanding.
                         You were there, my Heavenly Hope.

                         I could hear You say, "I love you";
                         I could hear You say, "You're mine".
                         In my sad and thirsty moments
                         I could feel your arms around me.
                         You were there, my Wedding Wine.

                         Never had I felt so helpless
                         nor so weak; I knew at length,
                         that weakness makes us see You stronger,
                         rest, and watch You work, in wonder.
                         You were there, my Silent Strength.

                         Through our friends' and neighbors' kindness
                         You have proven your supply
                          is never-ending, based on mercy;
                          all your power, all your glory...
                          You were there, my El Shaddai!

                          When again I need your comfort,
                          or to feel your healing fire;
                          when I need your strength and music,
                          when I need to drink your Presence...
                          You'll be there, my Heart's Desire!
                                                                          
                                                                                  (Becky Rhon, written Nov. 29, 1985)
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"If I keep on like this, I'll break."

I was way too busy. I enjoyed it all, though! Among other things: giving Spanish lessons, piano lessons, being the church pianist, speaking at ladies' meetings and retreats...while running our house, which included things like baking a lot of our bread, making my own yogurt, pasteurizing our milk, and cooking without all the convenience foods available in the biggest cities or in countries like the U.S. (About all you could get canned back then - in Shell- was tuna, tomato paste, and evaporated and sweetened condensed milk. No frozen vegetables, and only one kind of bread, little round rolls. No pizzerias or supermarkets.) But I love cooking, and experimenting in the kitchen, and had lived in this country long enough to be able to adapt recipes to what was available. I also (as did many in the missionary community) sewed quite a bit, making not only clothes but also gifts for the various children's birthday parties that were the "highlights" of the kids' "social" lives! (A favorite manipulating device was, "I won't invite you to my birthday party...")     And then there was the hospitality. When someone came down from Quito on mission business, a sign-up sheet would be put up, where one could offer to feed whoever was coming a meal. Besides that, we had friends and neighbors over for meals.

Looking back, I wonder how in the world I ever managed to do so much! Of course, I was a lot younger! But it caught up with me. Other factors were present (which I'll get to in another post), but the over-busy-ness apparently was the catalyst. I remember standing in the kitchen after lunch one day and thinking, "If I keep on like this, I'll break." I went out and walked for a long time, something which always helped.
I did try to cut back some on activities. But in a bee-hive like Shell, it was hard.

Then came a week where I had people over for meals 8 times in 7 days! (Crazy!) Then we were going to go away for a night or two for our anniversary, and my mother-in-law showed up at our front door! She had asked about coming, and we sent the message to come down later, as we were going to be away, but she didn't get it. She stayed a couple weeks, and although we got along well, it was one more strain. With all the other things I had to do...

I collapsed.

I had almost finished making supper one night, and suddenly I couldn't function. It wasn't dramatic. Everything inside me just slowed to a crawl. I could hardly talk. The next couple weeks I spent mainly laying down in the apartment next door, which was empty at the time. (There was a connecting doorway between it and ours.) Our front door remained shut...which meant to others that I was either not at home or  unavailable. Sometimes I would sit and listen to music and cry and cry.

Germán took over for me in a lot of ways for a while. I would make meals (if you could call them that) while the kids were in school, but then he'd supervise the supper hour. Various friends in the community sent over meals, too, which was wonderful. Most of them sent enough food to feed us for 2 or 3 days at a time!

I read a lot, and just rested.  And then, very soon after, JESUS came. Although I didn't actually see Him with my physical eyes, I could have told you where He was standing when He was with me. Sometimes at the left side of the bed, sometimes at the right, sometimes at the foot.

Not understanding what was going on inside me, someone said, "Pull yourself together!" But in order to do that, one has to have something of substance on which to stand while pulling...and a reserve of strength from which to draw. I had no strength left; my reserve was empty.

I couldn't "pull myself together". Someone Else would have to do that for me...and carry me in His arms until I could walk on my own again.
************************************************************************************************(In my next posts I'll share more about the days when HE carried me, and show you some more poetry.)

Double Feature! - Gigantic spider vs. bag of M&M's // "I Walk On", a poem of trust

It was beautiful, but its beauty was sinister. I was walking back to our house in Shell, and as I got to the swinging bridge a colossal spider walked elegantly onto the narrow dirt path and stopped. I was transfixed. It was the most enormous spider I had ever seen in my life. (And I grew up around the jungle!) As I stared at it, and it at me, I calculated that if I were to lift it up and set it down on a dinner plate, without straightening its legs out, just in normal pose, its legs would be resting on the outer rim of the plate. Extending its extremities, it would have had about a 12-13-inch leg-span. It's body was bigger than any I had seen and was about 5 inches off the ground. It seemed to be a tarantula, but its legs weren't very hairy (not like the goliath spider).

I've looked it up on the Internet, and never have I found a description that matches what I saw. The closest is the huntsman spider, the largest known, only discovered by science in 2001. The huntsman has about the same leg-span, but it walks with front legs in a sort of crab-like fashion...which my spider didn't. The huntsman has a body a little less than 2 inches long, and mine's was from 3 to 4 inches long. (If anyone can tell me what it was, I'd love to know!  If the largest spider known to science was only discovered 12 years ago, who knows what other species are still out there, unknown?!)

I wanted to capture the creature, but all I had in my hand was a small bag of M&M's. The spider's body was half the size of the bag, so it obviously was useless. I wished I'd had a sweater, so I could wrap it around him. Finally someone came along the path, and through him I sent word to a couple of the missionaries who collect spiders. But it took too long for them to get there, and the spider had headed into the underbrush. I was really disappointed that no one else saw such a magnificent work of art. The closest was when one of my friends finally arrived and we peered into the underbrush, where we saw the spider glaring back at us. All we could see were his glowing eyes. They were so far apart and so far off the ground that his enormous size was easily imaginable, and my friend said there was no way he was going in after it! (I didn't blame him!) It's a haunting memory, with still a tinge of disappointment, but in the end I'm sure the spider far preferred his own environment.  Some things are better off just left alone.

(Isn't it awesome that God never says that  about us?)

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                            I WALK ON

            You know where my path's uneven,
            where it's strewn with debris and stone.
            You know where it turns most ruthless,
            for You walked it Yourself...alone.

           You know where the seas are deepest;
           even there they obey your Voice.
           You know where the road is steepest,
           for You climbed Calvary's Hill...by choice.

          You know where I'll cross a desert
           like the one where You faced your Foe.
          You know where my griefs weigh heavy;
          when You bore them, they bent You low.

                                           You know where I run for safety
                                           when my courage in tatters lies.
                                           You know where I find my refuge
                                           when the harmony 'round me dies.

                                           You remind me that where I'm weakest,
                                            your Power can make me strong.
                                            I can live each day touched by Music,
                                            for You are the Eternal Song.

          You know where my heart is headed.
          You set all that I need in place.
          I walk on, for my soul is embedded
          in the depth of your Love and Grace!
                                                                                       -Becky Rhon

                        
I place this poem here because in the next blogs I want to show you how, in the days, months and years following a collapse that challenged our faith, priorities and balance, God proved what this poem says! He knew everything we'd go through; He knew where we'd struggle and where we'd triumph. He set what we needed in place. He was ready to let us know in special ways that we were truly "embedded in his Love and Grace".  Please join me!
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(Again, if you would like to use my poetry, please let me know!  Thanks.)
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Oh...it's just a cockroach (Apartment Wildlife!)

Are you like me, in that when I try to remember when something happened, I first think of how old my kids were then, and THAT helps me place the event? (Well...sort of!)  The events and situations I'm sharing with you might not be in chronological order, I'm afraid. I can't always remember how old my kids were at a given point!

The first several years in Shell held a wealth of new experiences, challenges and showings of God's Hand on us...before things started on a downward spiral with my health. (But I must add that in the years following the spiral, and even today, we are STILL struck by new experiences, facing new challenges and seeing God's Hand move. There may have been an abrupt upheaval in our life, but NEVER in the faithfulness of our Heavenly Father!)

Our apartment in Shell had an attic that was inhabited...by rats and bats.  We could hear them scratching  around up there. They were just a part of life, and never bothered us. In fact, once when Debbie was about 4, we were talking about where Jesus was. In Heaven...and I pointed in a general upwards direction; she looked at me doubtfully and said, "You mean...He lives up there with the rats and bats?"

Cockroaches were the bane of all the dwellings in Shell. When I was very pregnant (and overdue) with Debbie, one night I felt a little whish of tiny feet race over me; I squeaked and sat up to brush it away. Germán bolted upright and immediately wanted to know if  my labor pains were starting! No...it was just a cockroach.

Every few months we would empty kitchen cabinets and the like, and paint on a liquid cockroach-killer; when it dried, we'd wash everything and put it all away again. The "roach-i-cide" was absorbed by the little pests as they walked over it. Of course, this meant we ended up with dead cockroaches here and there, not a good thing when one has a crawling-but-not-yet-walking baby.  When I saw Debbie one day munching tentatively on something, I checked to see what she'd stuck in her mouth. Yeah...it was just a cockroach. (Yuck!)

Spiders were omnipresent, but they were mostly harmless. Right after we moved into the apartment, a small tarantula came to greet us, but we never saw him again. There would be an occasional lizard and different kinds of bugs, but we never had trouble with them, no bites or stings. None of the rats found its way down from the attic, and only one bat ever did. I heard some slapping sounds in the living room one night, louder than the usual noise the nocturnal cockroaches made. I went out and found a bat that apparently had been injured, as he couldn't fly and was just flapping around. I put a basket over him so he couldn't migrate to other rooms...and went back to bed.

God protected all of us in the community from any of His creatures that might have harmed us, even the wildlife outside the apartment. (Yes, like venomous snakes.) Obviously, though, we ourselves also had to be alert and stay out of risky situations (if possible).  It's like an illustration of how He protects His children from things that could endanger them spiritually or emotionally.  We are surrounded by the "wildlife" of the world, of sin, of ourselves...God, our shield, is there beside us...but here, too, we  need to be alert and watchful. We need to always pay attention!

More next time!  Be grateful for God's protection...and pay attention!  May He bless you.

"But I don't want anyone to kill Cain!"

I'm much more of a country girl, so moving to Shell with its several thousand inhabitants (and a couple thousand of those were on the military base) was an appealing idea. Germán still had to get out every now and then to the pollution and noise of the city. I was reared in the coastal jungle; he was reared in Quito. Big difference! (I still vaguely remember when they got their first traffic light. Not that people paid much attention to it!)

When we arrived in Shell the HCJB missionaries were in the first stages of a game of "musical houses". So for the first month we lived in the guest apartment I mentioned in the last post.  Germán began learning his duties as he supervised the maintenance crew, kitchen and laundry staff, etc. He also helped with things like picking up blood at the blood bank in the next larger town, or transporting patients flown in from the jungle by the MAF pilots. We started getting to know the other families. Fast friendships developed over time, and we still keep in touch with other "Shell-mates".

One night when we had just recently moved into the apartment that would be our home for the next eight years, I was reading Dan a Bible story before he went to bed. That night it was about Cain and Abel. Cain kills Abel and is then banished by God, who says, "Now you are under a curse". Cain is dismayed and responds, "My punishment is more than I can bear...whoever finds me will kill me."

As soon as I read that part, Dan's eyes filled with tears and he protested, "But I don't WANT anyone to kill Cain!"  I was speechless for a couple of seconds. The normal human reaction would be "he got what he deserved". I doubt Dan even realized that he was mirroring God's feelings. In spite of his horrible crime, God loved Cain and didn't want anyone to kill him either!

 I continued with the story. Hearing that God had put a protective mark on Cain so that anyone who killed him would be severely punished, Dan was very relieved! This happened 32 years ago, but it still makes me think. In pleading with God, Cain also said, "I will be hidden from your presence", and I think that may have been far and away the worst part of his banishment. Leaving his homeland and wandering the earth was hard, but having to leave God's presence must have been soul-wrenching.

I'm sure you've all wondered what Hell is like. We read of  fire and "weeping and gnashing of teeth", but I believe the most excruciating aspect of it will be separation from God, with no hope of reconciliation. Those who reject Him in this life reject the chance of reconciliation He provides for them. So many people in this world face the same punishment as Cain did: banishment from God's presence...only theirs will be forever. As we settled down in Shell, we wanted to continue the kind of  work we had done in Australia: helping others find the only way a person can avoid this awful ending...and helping others understand that the God who provided The Way to do this is loving, compassionate, powerful and fully worth getting to know! Each of us can begin to build a relationship with Him that should continue to grow...and never stop growing, even when we get to Heaven.

I pray that each one of you who reads this has accepted the chance God gives you to be sure that you will never be separated from His presence.