Markham County Park, Sunrise, Florida
Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. ~ Romans 12:17
There’s not much to tell you about today. The forecast was for rain, so the only place we went was into town to do gobs of laundry. While I waited for it to get done, Blaine went for a haircut and stopped to pick up a few groceries. Just as we finished up, the rain began. And so it went, off and on all day long.
Blaine worked on travel arrangements, and I helped some, but only a little.
So to fill the space, here’s another segment from my God Moments journal. We’re picking up with our time at Springfield Baptist Church, and the death of one of my best friends, Terri Hixson, wife of our Pastor.
After several years of attendance, there was a particular Sunday when Pastor Ted preached on being certain of your salvation. I sat in the choir loft stone-still. There was an undeniable battle raging in me. Should I go to the altar or should I not? People would see me. People would know. What will they think? But in the end, I had to go. There was no choice. I was sobbing so hard that Ted was taken aback and virtually speechless, which was quite unusual for him! He really didn’t know what to say to me. Of course, first I had to stop crying enough to tell him why I was there. That helped. He prayed and it was decided that he and I would meet later that week to discuss it. We determined, after lengthy discussion that I was, in fact already a Christian, that I just needed reassurance and rededication. Whew!!
Now that we’ve talked about Ted. Let me tell you about his wife, Terri. Yes, we shared the same name. And that caused a few embarrassing moments when someone would call our name and both would answer! Terri was a very godly woman. She enjoyed crafts much more than cleaning – a true sister in Christ! We also shared a love for singing and did several special music presentations together. Only problem was, we were both altos, but we managed somehow. We used to half-joke about how our kids would probably grow up to be on Jerry Springer or some other show, talking about how we ruined their lives. We also talked about sharing housework. We both hated it and thought maybe if we helped each other, it wouldn’t be so bad – we might even have fun. But it never happened. She was called Home much, much too early. Terri was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in April of 1997 and was gone by August. She left behind a five-year-old son, Matthew, and two young teenage daughters, Michelle and Jennifer. As well as a grieving husband, parents, siblings, and tons of friends, not to mention an entire church family. Each and every person who knew her, loved her dearly.
I will never understand why God took her Home. It’s one of those unanswered “Why???” questions. It caused a crisis of faith for me, even though I didn’t realize it at the time, that lasted for 5 very long years. Truthfully, if I hadn’t had children, I probably would have stopped attending church. But it’s weird because I never realized that I was in crisis. I kept saying that God was in control and that I trusted Him. But His Spirit seemed to have left me as surely as it left Terri once she was dead. I was lost. I couldn’t pray. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. I thought it was some form of depression, but determined it wasn’t that. I went to the altar several times, but no one could or would help me. I think they just didn’t know how. Ted had moved on – along with his family and new wife – to Arizona about two months after Terri’s death, so I didn’t have him to go to. Besides, how do you go to a grieving husband and tell him your heart is empty? It just didn’t seem right.
Then, about 3 or 4 years later, I got a strange phone call. A former Springfield Baptist church secretary, Jan Pluck, called me. She said that in her prayer time, my name kept coming up. She wanted to know why I thought God would bring me to her mind. I said I had no idea. (“Self-denial speaking. May I help you?”) So she got more specific. “How’s your service?” “Same as always.” (Liar, liar, pants on fire!) More pushing from her – “What specifically are you doing?” I had nothing to tell her. She asked if she could send over a friend of hers. An untrained woman who was gifted in counseling. Sad, but I can’t remember her name. I do however, remember very clearly her sitting across from me in my living room. I remember us talking about Terri and the circumstances before and after her death. I remember her praying with me. I remember her telling me that I may be in a time of faith-testing by God. I remember wondering why. I remember us talking about how you can say the words, but not really mean them. I remember her telling me that it may be a long process to come out of this spiritual darkness, but that she knew that God was on the other side calling me and waiting for me. I remember glimpsing that “light”. I remember taking my first baby steps toward healing. It was indeed a long process. But at the end of that five years, I began the most in-touch time with the Holy Spirit I have ever experienced. It was the beginning of a true walk of faith on my part. Although, that being said. I must add that I’ve recently discovered that it’s much, much, much easier for me to have faith in God where I, personally, am concerned. It is infinitely more difficult to have that same faith where my children are concerned. I cannot adequately express the fear and dread that creeps into my heart when I think of their lack of faith and service. I cannot express the intense desire to interfere in their lives and “make it all better”. To want to yank them back out of God’s arms and into my own. To give them my own faith and trust. My philosophy of desiring to live each day for the Lord. That even though I fail miserably, the deepest desire is always there. But alas, I can’t give it to them. And I cannot make them. It must be their decision – with God’s help. So I pray. And I try to trust that, one day it will be so. I will be forever grateful that Jan actually listened to God and called me. I try to follow her example, especially since I now know how important it is. But unfortunately, that hasn’t seemed to stop me from arguing with Him about His promptings!