Yesterday, since it was rainy and I couldn't work outside, I decided to drive up to my brother's house in northcentral Pennsylvania. He's downsizing and offered me his riding mower. So, I hitched up my little flatbed trailer and headed off in the late morning.
It's a four-and-a-half-hour trip; I arrived at 3:00 PM. Joyce had a nice lunch for me and we sat and talked for a while. Then Ira and I went out to load the mower and tie it down. They invited me to spend the night and the better part of wisdom said I should do that; however I took off a little after five o'clock.
By the time I reached route 80, it was already dark. It made for a long, lonely trip. In spite of having the trailer loaded, I was still able to roll along with traffic at 70 miles-per-hour. I expected to arrive home a little after 10:00 PM, watch some TV and go to bed. That's NOT the way it happened.
Around 8:45, as I was accelerating up an incline, my Xterra began to shudder. I couldn't tell if I had a flat on the vehicle or the trailer. I immediately slowed down but did not pull off. The Emlenton exit was coming up and I hoped to make it. I did.
There was a truck stop there! Yay! I pulled under some lights and disconnected the trailer so I could locate the sound. It was definitely coming from the car. I crawled under the car with my flashlight and checked the tie-rods and springs. Everything looked good. I gripped each wheel and they all seemed tight.
I notified the people inside that I would be sleeping in my vehicle. After calling Debbie, I hunkered down to spend a long night in the Xterra. UNCOMFORTABLE!! And rather chilly! I forced myself to stay put until 6:00 AM. Then I went inside for breakfast.
After talking with some locals, I discovered that there was a repair shop across the street! :-) I pulled over and waited for them to arrive; they opened at 8:30 AM.
The owner was more than happy to take it for a short ride. He then pulled it inside and jacked up the front right. The wheel wobbled significantly! Two lug bolts had sheared off! Two other lug nuts had fallen off along the way. Of the remaining two, one was loose.
Now mind you, I had been rolling along at 70 mph with one lug nut holding my tire on!!!!! See why I'm feeling grateful?
Psalm 46:1
God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.
POST SCRIPT
My Mom had a peculiar way of thinking about things. I suppose it emerged from her Reformed Presbyterian upbringing. She strongly believed in God's protection! I can't tell you how many times, when we were traveling, that she would see an accident and say something like: "Leonard, if we hadn't ______________ [fill in the blank: gotten that long light, or stopped for iced cream, or left a little late...] we might have been involved in that accident." I'm sure that each of my siblings would smile at this explanation; they all heard it as often as I did!
I thought of Mom this morning after my car was fixed and I was back on route 80 - again going 70 mph! A few miles down the road there was evidence of a MAJOR accident: deep black skid marks for several hundred feet and crumpled guard rails for an equal distance.
You know what leaped to my mind?
If I hadn't pulled off last night because of my problem...
;-)
Friday, October 13, 2017
Sunday, October 8, 2017
OCTOBER THOUGHTS
In some respects, it's remarkable that I haven't written more about my Mom over the years! She was certainly the dominant force in my formative years. As I've written before, my father wasn't an affectionate man and we did very little together. I did become closer to him when I became an adult, but we never shared a deep sense of bondedness.
But Mom (Hazel Haire) was my 'hand's on' parent! Her impact was persistent and powerful! Her constant love for the Lord led her to be deeply involved in our local church. When I was a teen, she was a key leader in the Pittsburgh Conference Women's Missionary Society. Her passion for missions was epic! We frequently had missionaries stay in our home overnight or for a few days!
In addition, she was deeply committed to prayer! Her Bible is still filled with lists of people that she was regularly praying for. She cultivated in me a passion for God and for the things He cared about. She poured endless time and energy into preparation for mission events. She planned and executed "This Is Your Life" programs for a number of missionaries and other church leaders.
I still possess notebooks in which she tucked away magazine clippings, bulletin items, scriptures, sermon notes, and other items that she didn't want to lose track of. I wonder if she had a dream of someday collating much of this information into a book-form? She inculcated a similar practice in me that has resulted in a massive, alphabetized electronic file that has fueled my sermons and teaching for decades!
She died a little over a year after having a heart-valve replaced. The surgery had been successful, but the anti-rejection medications eventually took her life. She died less than two months after Tracibeth was born. The date was October 10, 1981. I was 29.
Losing her had a massive impact on my life! Essentially, Troy and Tracie have no memories that include her! :-( Travis had some memories of her deep love for him! I understand that this is one of the results of being the youngest in my family; however, knowing that my children missed out on her tremendous influence and love has been a chronic point of sorrow for me!
For years after her death, I experienced a bout of depression when October rolled around. Even though over thirty-five years have passed, I still can't get past an October 10th without missing her deeply!
Then, two years ago, early October was marked even more deeply by Travis' death! We got word of his cardiac arrest on October 5, 2015. It was just past 3:30 PM and I was about to get in the car when Troy put his hand on my chest and said, "Dad, you're not going to Kittanning today." That's when our world collapsed...
By 8:30 PM, remarkably, we were on an airplane headed for Honolulu. The next day we arrived at the hospital to stand by his bedside and weep. He died three days later on October 9.
The next weeks went by like a blur. There was a memorial service at the Pearl Harbor Chapel attended by his work associates and friends. There was the funeral at the Naval Academy in Annapolis. Through it all - we were numb.
The first anniversary of these dates was difficult. We (Debbie, me, Troy, Tracie and Josh) mourned together via text. We upheld one another with words of affection and prayers of concern. We were all deeply hurting.
This year has been different. Debbie and I spent a quiet week at a condo in North Carolina. She hardly went out at all. I ventured out for some hiking. We were quiet all week. We both did a lot of reading and napping. Troy and Missy attended a retreat in Arizona for the siblings of lost military members. I guess we're all finding our way through this the best we can...
Since Travis passed, our 'highs' aren't near as high and our 'lows' are much lower! Neither of us are as social as we used to be. Even Debbie, who has carried me relationally for over forty-four years, now often suggests that we just 'take a pass' on interactive engagements.
Many others have been down this road before us. They report that the pain lessens with the passing of time. I guess we can attest to that to some degree, however, the knowledge that our precious son is gone can assault us at the most unsuspecting moments.
We live with questions that can't be answered or are too difficult to ask... Times of real joy - that used to regularly punctuate our lives - are extremely rare now.
Somewhere in my training as a counselor, I read that one must talk of your lost loved one for one-hundred hours to facilitate the healing process. However, most people - understandably - are reluctant to bring up Travis' name for fear of causing us pain. A corrective to this scenario is: WE LOVE TALKING ABOUT OUR SON!
I recently had a chance to talk with our nephew, Colin Bredl, who is also serving as an officer in the United States Navy. I shared a number of 'Travis stories' with him. I don't know what he thought of my candor. It was therapeutic for me to talk with Colin. Upon Travis' death, his Commander heard about Colin; some phone calls were made and Colin was granted 'leave' to travel to Annapolis for the funeral. It meant a lot to us to have him there!
I weep. I hold Debbie when she weeps. We occasionally lay awake at night in sullen sorrow. Sometimes we speak; other times we just hold hands. All of the time we lean on the One who loves us most:
But Mom (Hazel Haire) was my 'hand's on' parent! Her impact was persistent and powerful! Her constant love for the Lord led her to be deeply involved in our local church. When I was a teen, she was a key leader in the Pittsburgh Conference Women's Missionary Society. Her passion for missions was epic! We frequently had missionaries stay in our home overnight or for a few days!
In addition, she was deeply committed to prayer! Her Bible is still filled with lists of people that she was regularly praying for. She cultivated in me a passion for God and for the things He cared about. She poured endless time and energy into preparation for mission events. She planned and executed "This Is Your Life" programs for a number of missionaries and other church leaders.
I still possess notebooks in which she tucked away magazine clippings, bulletin items, scriptures, sermon notes, and other items that she didn't want to lose track of. I wonder if she had a dream of someday collating much of this information into a book-form? She inculcated a similar practice in me that has resulted in a massive, alphabetized electronic file that has fueled my sermons and teaching for decades!
She died a little over a year after having a heart-valve replaced. The surgery had been successful, but the anti-rejection medications eventually took her life. She died less than two months after Tracibeth was born. The date was October 10, 1981. I was 29.
Losing her had a massive impact on my life! Essentially, Troy and Tracie have no memories that include her! :-( Travis had some memories of her deep love for him! I understand that this is one of the results of being the youngest in my family; however, knowing that my children missed out on her tremendous influence and love has been a chronic point of sorrow for me!
For years after her death, I experienced a bout of depression when October rolled around. Even though over thirty-five years have passed, I still can't get past an October 10th without missing her deeply!
Then, two years ago, early October was marked even more deeply by Travis' death! We got word of his cardiac arrest on October 5, 2015. It was just past 3:30 PM and I was about to get in the car when Troy put his hand on my chest and said, "Dad, you're not going to Kittanning today." That's when our world collapsed...
By 8:30 PM, remarkably, we were on an airplane headed for Honolulu. The next day we arrived at the hospital to stand by his bedside and weep. He died three days later on October 9.
The next weeks went by like a blur. There was a memorial service at the Pearl Harbor Chapel attended by his work associates and friends. There was the funeral at the Naval Academy in Annapolis. Through it all - we were numb.
The first anniversary of these dates was difficult. We (Debbie, me, Troy, Tracie and Josh) mourned together via text. We upheld one another with words of affection and prayers of concern. We were all deeply hurting.
This year has been different. Debbie and I spent a quiet week at a condo in North Carolina. She hardly went out at all. I ventured out for some hiking. We were quiet all week. We both did a lot of reading and napping. Troy and Missy attended a retreat in Arizona for the siblings of lost military members. I guess we're all finding our way through this the best we can...
Since Travis passed, our 'highs' aren't near as high and our 'lows' are much lower! Neither of us are as social as we used to be. Even Debbie, who has carried me relationally for over forty-four years, now often suggests that we just 'take a pass' on interactive engagements.
Many others have been down this road before us. They report that the pain lessens with the passing of time. I guess we can attest to that to some degree, however, the knowledge that our precious son is gone can assault us at the most unsuspecting moments.
We live with questions that can't be answered or are too difficult to ask... Times of real joy - that used to regularly punctuate our lives - are extremely rare now.
Somewhere in my training as a counselor, I read that one must talk of your lost loved one for one-hundred hours to facilitate the healing process. However, most people - understandably - are reluctant to bring up Travis' name for fear of causing us pain. A corrective to this scenario is: WE LOVE TALKING ABOUT OUR SON!
I recently had a chance to talk with our nephew, Colin Bredl, who is also serving as an officer in the United States Navy. I shared a number of 'Travis stories' with him. I don't know what he thought of my candor. It was therapeutic for me to talk with Colin. Upon Travis' death, his Commander heard about Colin; some phone calls were made and Colin was granted 'leave' to travel to Annapolis for the funeral. It meant a lot to us to have him there!
I weep. I hold Debbie when she weeps. We occasionally lay awake at night in sullen sorrow. Sometimes we speak; other times we just hold hands. All of the time we lean on the One who loves us most:
Does Jesus care when my heart is pained
Too deeply for mirth or song,
As the burdens press, and the cares distress
And the way grows weary and long?
Refrain
Oh yes, He cares, I know He cares,
His heart is touched with my grief;
When the days are weary, the long nights dreary,
I know my Savior cares.
Does Jesus care when my way is dark
With a nameless dread and fear?
As the daylight fades into deep night shades,
Does He care enough to be near?
Refrain
Does Jesus care when I’ve tried and failed
To resist some temptation strong;
When for my deep grief there is no relief,
Though my tears flow all the night long?
Refrain
Does Jesus care when I’ve said
goodbye
To the dearest on earth to me,
And my sad heart aches till it nearly breaks,
Is it aught to Him? Does He see?
Refrain
Sunday, October 1, 2017
I WENT TO CHURCH THIS MORNING
For this week, we are living on a mountaintop near Banner Elk, North Carolina. Being Sunday, I searched for a church to attend. I chose a United Methodist Church in Banner Elk.
My GPS took me to a deserted lane on the campus of Lees McRae College. After doing some narrow backing up, I proceeded through the tight campus and discovered a Presbyterian Church. After parking, while walking toward the church, I found the United Methodist Church.
It's web-page announced a worship at 9:30 AM. The outdoor sign proclaimed a "Contemporary Service" at 9:40 AM. It was 9:29 AM and there were no cars in the lot.
I slipped in a door marked "Entrance" and worked my way slowly up some steep stairs. At the top, I peeked into a small fellowship room and was noticed by the pastor. I asked if there was a worship service at 9:30 AM? He said, "Yes, although it might be just you and me."
I went into the sanctuary and seated myself about halfway while he changed the hymn numbers on the board at the front and prepared the Communion Table.
Shortly after, another couple (also visitors) entered a different door straight into the sanctuary. At 9:40, one parishioner also entered.
The pastor brought a stool back to where we were seated and began the very informal service by talking about his tenure at this church. He arrived several years earlier to a congregation of five members. He has seen some moderate growth since. The roster at the front of the church indicated an attendance last Sunday of 40 and an offering of $166.21.
He then asked for prayer concerns and prayed for us. He spoke of the different views of sacraments between Catholicism and Methodism. He was very soft spoken and I had great difficulty hearing him. He talked about Christ's last evening with His disciples and explained the Lord's Supper to us. Then he invited us to join him at the front of the chapel and he served us Communion. He pronounced a blessing over us and the service ended.
As I wound my way to the back and started down the stairs, I yielded to about five elderly women who were arriving for the 11:00 AM worship service.
As I walked to my car, I felt guilty when I saw the sign that said the lot was strictly limited to use by people attending the Presbyterian Church! A few cars were pulling in as I left - obviously to attend the 11:00 AM service.
You can imagine my thoughts as I drove back to our mountaintop retreat.
Sadness. Overwhelming sorrow at a pair of churches located at the center of a college campus that are both propping up traditional forms of worship but failing to connect with people - especially young people!
I wept as I drove.
Although I've attended several churches over recent weeks, I've been disappointed at the simple head-nod that's been given to the horrendous grief thrust upon people who live in Houston, Florida, the Virgin Islands, Puerto Rico and Mexico.
I remember the massive spike in church attendance immediately following the attack on the twin towers in New York City in 2001. It lasted one Sunday, largely because these inquirers didn't find relevance when they entered the doors.
I'm no longer leading a church, but that doesn't mean that I've dis-invested from it. I love the church; always have - always will! But, like so many others, I long for it to be relevant and caring. Exclusivity has no place in these walls! I pray for fresh winds of the Spirit to blow through our churches and our lives. I pray for my own personal renewal.
So many churches that I've been part of have been difference-making churches! While serving at New Middletown, I kept a poster on my office door of people who had led someone to Christ. Before I left, I had to add more space to the bottom of the page! :-)
During my years on staff at the Cornerstone Church in Akron, the weekly staff meeting was so exciting! Nearly EVERY WEEK there were reports of people surrendering their lives to Christ! By God's grace, we were catching people from the dregs of life and putting their feet on a purpose-full path!
My GPS took me to a deserted lane on the campus of Lees McRae College. After doing some narrow backing up, I proceeded through the tight campus and discovered a Presbyterian Church. After parking, while walking toward the church, I found the United Methodist Church.
It's web-page announced a worship at 9:30 AM. The outdoor sign proclaimed a "Contemporary Service" at 9:40 AM. It was 9:29 AM and there were no cars in the lot.
I slipped in a door marked "Entrance" and worked my way slowly up some steep stairs. At the top, I peeked into a small fellowship room and was noticed by the pastor. I asked if there was a worship service at 9:30 AM? He said, "Yes, although it might be just you and me."
I went into the sanctuary and seated myself about halfway while he changed the hymn numbers on the board at the front and prepared the Communion Table.
Shortly after, another couple (also visitors) entered a different door straight into the sanctuary. At 9:40, one parishioner also entered.
The pastor brought a stool back to where we were seated and began the very informal service by talking about his tenure at this church. He arrived several years earlier to a congregation of five members. He has seen some moderate growth since. The roster at the front of the church indicated an attendance last Sunday of 40 and an offering of $166.21.
He then asked for prayer concerns and prayed for us. He spoke of the different views of sacraments between Catholicism and Methodism. He was very soft spoken and I had great difficulty hearing him. He talked about Christ's last evening with His disciples and explained the Lord's Supper to us. Then he invited us to join him at the front of the chapel and he served us Communion. He pronounced a blessing over us and the service ended.
As I wound my way to the back and started down the stairs, I yielded to about five elderly women who were arriving for the 11:00 AM worship service.
As I walked to my car, I felt guilty when I saw the sign that said the lot was strictly limited to use by people attending the Presbyterian Church! A few cars were pulling in as I left - obviously to attend the 11:00 AM service.
You can imagine my thoughts as I drove back to our mountaintop retreat.
Sadness. Overwhelming sorrow at a pair of churches located at the center of a college campus that are both propping up traditional forms of worship but failing to connect with people - especially young people!
I wept as I drove.
Although I've attended several churches over recent weeks, I've been disappointed at the simple head-nod that's been given to the horrendous grief thrust upon people who live in Houston, Florida, the Virgin Islands, Puerto Rico and Mexico.
I remember the massive spike in church attendance immediately following the attack on the twin towers in New York City in 2001. It lasted one Sunday, largely because these inquirers didn't find relevance when they entered the doors.
I'm no longer leading a church, but that doesn't mean that I've dis-invested from it. I love the church; always have - always will! But, like so many others, I long for it to be relevant and caring. Exclusivity has no place in these walls! I pray for fresh winds of the Spirit to blow through our churches and our lives. I pray for my own personal renewal.
So many churches that I've been part of have been difference-making churches! While serving at New Middletown, I kept a poster on my office door of people who had led someone to Christ. Before I left, I had to add more space to the bottom of the page! :-)
During my years on staff at the Cornerstone Church in Akron, the weekly staff meeting was so exciting! Nearly EVERY WEEK there were reports of people surrendering their lives to Christ! By God's grace, we were catching people from the dregs of life and putting their feet on a purpose-full path!
God,
Help us to clearly and accurately reflect Your love and mercy to the people You bring us into contact with every day! Renew us through Your gracious forgiveness and enable us with charm and power as we seek to be Your Church to a lost and hurting world!
Amen.
CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?
I woke up one morning in 1987, and noticed that my hearing was different. Throughout the morning I had a crackling sensation in my left ear, and by noon I couldn't hear at all. I went to my doctor who sent me to an ear specialist. I eventually had surgery to see if it was anything that could be repaired. The doctor explained afterward that I simply had a condition referred to as 'nerve deafness'. From that time onward, I have had a 100% hearing loss on my left side.
But to be honest with you, it hasn't bothered me that much. Many people actually have this same handicap. At that time, the hearing in my right ear was excellent. So, life became a process of positioning myself (and others) to facilitate my hearing. Debbie learned to always sit or walk on my right side. I became adept at keeping people on my right side.
I had a friend while we lived in Maryland. Al was always difficult for me to talk with. I would get him where I needed him to be and then he would move. Talking with Al was like dancing... When I invited him and a group of men to my home one night, I positioned myself so that everyone would be on my right; Al took my seat! I confronted him humorously about doing so. That was the night that I discovered that he was also deaf on his left side! The only way we could talk was to stand or sit face-to-face! :-)
In short, things went well for the next two decades. Many people didn't even know about my disability.
But then, the hearing in my right ear began to decline. This presented me with problems. By the time we went to China (2012), it had become rather pronounced. My students learned to only approach me on my right side. I struggled in my teaching role to hear my students. When the need for proper pronunciation is center-ground, not-being-able-to-hear is a major issue!
I even stopped backpacking for a number of years because it was unnerving to be in the deep woods and not be able to tell where sound was coming from. On one week-long trip, I took my dog, Collar, with me; I could watch him for cues and it gave me a sense of security.
One summer, while we were visiting the U.S., I received a used hearing aid from a friend. It even had a receiver piece for my left ear that sent a radio signal to my right ear - supposedly giving me hearing ability on both sides. After some adjustments by a hearing specialist, it was a blessing and did help some. I wore it for over two years until Debbie pursuaded me to go be fitted for my own personal hearing device.
Over $4,000 later, I was wearing an up-to-date, high-tech, very small hearing aid.
I still struggled to hear. I have been back repeatedly for cleanings and adjustments, but I still struggle in most environments.
This reality has changed me - BIG TIME!
I am becoming increasingly socially adverse. So many situations place me in an uncomfortable situation. I find myself frequently in dilemmas where I'm pretending that I can hear. I hate that!
Just last week, Debbie and I pulled into Freedom Church's lot for the annual car show. As I parked, I mentioned to Debbie that my anxiety level was skyrocketing. She tried to convince me that I would be among friends and people who loved me. However, that is little comfort when you know you're going to repeatedly be in stressful situations because of your hearing deficit!
I find myself withdrawing more-and-more because of my hearing. I am far less social than I used to be. I am uncomfortable at church where I struggle to hear and understand what's being said from the platform. I struggle in social events where many people are gathered and the collateral noise-level is high! I even have difficulty when speaking on the phone with people who talk really fast.
One huge aid is the ability to see a person's lips. Between my limited hearing and the ability to see the speaker clearly, I can often figure out what's being said.
I don't like the changes this has brought about in my life! It was certainly a factor in my premature retirement. I miss the easy exchange of information that used to take place. Now, I miss so much that it makes me wonder whether it's worth going places. I particularly feel sorry for Debbie for having to repeat 80% of what she says to me!
HOWEVER, in the midst of this small difficulty, I am grateful. I CAN still hear. I bought a streamer for our television that feeds directly to my hearing aid! Now I can watch TV without blasting Debbie and our neighbors! I even brought it on vacation with us! I still enjoy music.
My disability is minor compared to what so many people deal with! My heart aches for people with real woes like:
But to be honest with you, it hasn't bothered me that much. Many people actually have this same handicap. At that time, the hearing in my right ear was excellent. So, life became a process of positioning myself (and others) to facilitate my hearing. Debbie learned to always sit or walk on my right side. I became adept at keeping people on my right side.
I had a friend while we lived in Maryland. Al was always difficult for me to talk with. I would get him where I needed him to be and then he would move. Talking with Al was like dancing... When I invited him and a group of men to my home one night, I positioned myself so that everyone would be on my right; Al took my seat! I confronted him humorously about doing so. That was the night that I discovered that he was also deaf on his left side! The only way we could talk was to stand or sit face-to-face! :-)
In short, things went well for the next two decades. Many people didn't even know about my disability.
But then, the hearing in my right ear began to decline. This presented me with problems. By the time we went to China (2012), it had become rather pronounced. My students learned to only approach me on my right side. I struggled in my teaching role to hear my students. When the need for proper pronunciation is center-ground, not-being-able-to-hear is a major issue!
I even stopped backpacking for a number of years because it was unnerving to be in the deep woods and not be able to tell where sound was coming from. On one week-long trip, I took my dog, Collar, with me; I could watch him for cues and it gave me a sense of security.
One summer, while we were visiting the U.S., I received a used hearing aid from a friend. It even had a receiver piece for my left ear that sent a radio signal to my right ear - supposedly giving me hearing ability on both sides. After some adjustments by a hearing specialist, it was a blessing and did help some. I wore it for over two years until Debbie pursuaded me to go be fitted for my own personal hearing device.
Over $4,000 later, I was wearing an up-to-date, high-tech, very small hearing aid.
I still struggled to hear. I have been back repeatedly for cleanings and adjustments, but I still struggle in most environments.
This reality has changed me - BIG TIME!
I am becoming increasingly socially adverse. So many situations place me in an uncomfortable situation. I find myself frequently in dilemmas where I'm pretending that I can hear. I hate that!
Just last week, Debbie and I pulled into Freedom Church's lot for the annual car show. As I parked, I mentioned to Debbie that my anxiety level was skyrocketing. She tried to convince me that I would be among friends and people who loved me. However, that is little comfort when you know you're going to repeatedly be in stressful situations because of your hearing deficit!
I find myself withdrawing more-and-more because of my hearing. I am far less social than I used to be. I am uncomfortable at church where I struggle to hear and understand what's being said from the platform. I struggle in social events where many people are gathered and the collateral noise-level is high! I even have difficulty when speaking on the phone with people who talk really fast.
One huge aid is the ability to see a person's lips. Between my limited hearing and the ability to see the speaker clearly, I can often figure out what's being said.
I don't like the changes this has brought about in my life! It was certainly a factor in my premature retirement. I miss the easy exchange of information that used to take place. Now, I miss so much that it makes me wonder whether it's worth going places. I particularly feel sorry for Debbie for having to repeat 80% of what she says to me!
HOWEVER, in the midst of this small difficulty, I am grateful. I CAN still hear. I bought a streamer for our television that feeds directly to my hearing aid! Now I can watch TV without blasting Debbie and our neighbors! I even brought it on vacation with us! I still enjoy music.
My disability is minor compared to what so many people deal with! My heart aches for people with real woes like:
- The people in Houston, Florida, the Virgin Islands, and Puerto Rico who have lost everything!
- Those mourning lost loved ones, jobs and homes in Mexico.
- Veterans who have lost limbs and other functions as a result of their military involvements.
- People who are struggling with cancer and other life-threatening diseases.
- Those with blindness, deafness or other disabilities from birth or early on in life.
- Those in Third World countries who live on less than a dollar a day and wonder where their next meal will come from.
- Those who are unjustly imprisoned with little-or-no hope of relief.
- Those caught in extreme poverty or abuse with no power or connections of hope.
My challenge is simply that - a challenge. It makes life a LITTLE harder. I remain deeply grateful to God for ALL that He has done (and is doing) for me! His kindness is overwhelming! I will continue to praise Him and lean on His daily help to be all that I can be for His glory!
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