The Miracle of Each Moment

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.” Ecclesiastes 3:1

On the day that I had been dreading for months—the morning that our oldest son was to leave for college—I awoke with a sad, heavy heart. I didn't want to get out of bed and face the heartache and permanency of the day; it would mark a huge shift in our family, and life at home would never be the same. But as only God can orchestrate, my alarm went off at that moment, and the song “Miracle of the Moment” began to play. I had never heard it before, but the lyrics were striking and convicting. It spoke to my spirit as if God Himself were singing to me, reminding me that there are seasons in life, and this is the season for “letting go”. “We don’t have a time machine…and even if we did, would we really want to use it?” As a mother, my reaction was, “No, of course not…I do want him to grow into the man that God wants him to be. It's time for him to leave the nest.” As a cancer patient, however, it’s harder to chain my gut reaction of, “YES! Let’s go back and change everything and NOT have cancer!” But when I truly reflect on all that has transpired since my diagnosis, on the personal and spiritual growth that our family has encountered and the truly wonderful events that have happened despite three and a half years of transplants and treatments, I am not so quick to wish it all away. One of the greatest lessons I have learned is to appreciate every moment in life. Besides, as Steven Curtis Chapman sings, there is really nothing that I or anybody else can do about the past. “We are who and where and what we are for now, and this is the only moment we can do anything about.” It’s no use pining for the past; what’s happened is history. Life marches onward; life is hard; life is full of struggles. We have no control over time except this moment, right now. Chapman’s advice is to “breathe it in, breathe it out, and listen to your heartbeat” so that we discover the wonder in the here and now. It IS there—right in front of us! We can find a miracle in every moment if we look for it. Besides, “there’s only One who knows what’s really out there waiting” and we should leave our anxieties about the future up to Him. Most comforting is the reality that "HE is out there waiting” –we never need to go through life alone, and in His great love for us, “He has given us a treasure called right now”.

Miracle of the Moment

by Steven Curtis Chapman

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rResKXjKqjQ&list=PLEFD0D0208997549D

It's time for letting go 
All of our "if onlies" 
Cause we don't have a time machine 

And even if we did 
Would we really want to use it 
Would we really want to go change everything 

Cause we are who and where and what we are for now 
And this is the only moment we can do anything about 

So breathe it in and breathe it out 
And listen to your heartbeat 
There's a wonder in the here and now 
It's right there in front of you 
And I don't want you to miss the miracle of the moment 

There's only One who knows 
What's really out there waiting 
And all the moments yet to be 
And all we need to know 
Is He's out there waiting 
To Him the future's history 

And He has given us a treasure called right now 
And this is the only moment we can do anything about 

So breathe it in and breathe it out 
And listen to your heartbeat 
There's a wonder in the here and now 
It's right there in front of you 
And I don't want you to miss the miracle of the moment 

And if it brings you tears 
Then taste them as they fall 
Let them soften your heart 

And if it brings you laughter 
Then throw your head back 
And let it go 
Let it go, yeah 
You gotta let it go 

And listen to your heartbeat 

And breathe it in and breathe it out 
And listen to your heartbeat 
There's a wonder in the here and now 
It's right there in front of you 
And I don't want you to miss the miracle of the moment 

And breathe it in and breathe it out 
And listen to your heartbeat 
There's a wonder in the here and now
It's right there in front of you 
And I don't want you to miss the miracle of the moment

Thank You, Lord, for this treasure that we call Today. We don’t know what the future will bring, but You do. We only need to keep our eyes on You, to trust in You, and to rest in Your presence. We can face all challenges in the future with Your strength and Your promise to carry us. Bring peace to those in anxiety, comfort to those who mourn, and joy to those who weep. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

What Do We Want for Our Children?

“We know that for those who love God all things work together for good.” Romans 8:28

I realize that I have already referenced the above Bible verse, but there is just nothing better that comes to mind after my trial today. As a bit of background, about a year and a half ago, when I was about to undergo an allogeneic (donor) stem cell transplant, my husband and I decided to send our two youngest children to school for the first time. We had always homeschooled, as that fit our schedule (lots of travel, especially overseas mission work) and our educational philosophy (classical education, which is not easily available in our rural area), and our lifestyle (my husband used to work evenings when the kids were little, leaving him little quality time with them unless they were at home during the day). What we began with great trepidation and insecurity, even though I had a major in Education and had worked for several years as an Editor in educational publishing, soon became an enormous blessing and, quite honestly, a lifestyle that we easily became hooked on. It was almost traumatic for us to send our two youngest children to school. Our oldest two were at that time in college, one at Wheaton College and the other at the University of Pennsylvania, and they were also dismayed and a bit saddened at our change of lifestyle. It signified a real shift in our family, a true crisis.

Before we could cross over completely and surrender ourselves to a system that we had ignored for so long, we asked friends to come over and pray with us. One couple, who had become strong mentors to our family, gave us the most surprising advice. Most homeschooling parents seemed to believe that homeschooling was a permanent calling from God, and that we should continue to home school no matter what. But we had never seen it that way. We always went year to year, seeking God’s will for our family and never presuming that it would remain the same. Without telling us what to do, this mentor couple said the words, “God is sovereign over your children.” They didn’t need to say more, as we realized the impact of the words. His plan for them is not always the same as ours. He may include pain in their lives as an important way to strengthen their faith. As parents, we always try to spare them from pain, but is that always best? 

As it turned out, that year was full of lessons for them. We ended up sending them to a private classical school (and only because our public school system wasn’t willing to count SAT Subject Tests and the like for credit). Academically, it was everything we had hoped for, and everything I couldn’t provide at the time. I needed the year to recover, to focus on healing. But this rigorous classical school didn’t have a lot to offer in the way of social activities, and so while their education was top-notch, they were greatly missing their friends. It was ironic; the “homeschoolers” who were supposed to be socially deprived, were feeling very socially deprived in private school. But our kids have always had friends in all arenas, and the students at their school were so geographically distributed as to make it unfeasible to get together outside of school hours. It was not only a year of growth, but also a year of waiting for them. Quite simply, they could not WAIT to get back to their former life and their former classes!

This past year, we’ve enjoyed months of homeschooling again (homeschooling in our family means classes in a variety of venues; there is very little that I teach directly at the high school level; rather, I am the facilitator who pulls it all together). My bone marrow transplant was a success, and I have had very few issues since. In fact, I’ve enjoyed a greater quality of life than I have had for several years. Our junior in high school enrolled in many local college classes and excelled; our freshman was thrilled to finally be among her friends and in all the dance classes she had had to give up, and we all loved being home together on the “off” days. Then came the news from my doctor this winter…she’d like me to consider a second bone marrow transplant. I was aghast, as she had told me that I could only have one! How could I possibly have two? “Well, yes,” she said, “You will be the first patient at our hospital with multiple myeloma ever to undergo this protocol.” But I knew she wouldn’t offer it if she didn’t see the need. I have had a rogue protein band for a few months that she has worried about. She wants to be proactive. She thinks I have a 20% chance of defeating my cancer forever if I do this. I sailed through the last transplant. She knows I hate being on drugs. I am young. I have begged her to be aggressive. I have prayed for her to “think outside of the box”. Of course I am going to elect to do this.

But my donors? Last time, it was my oldest brother. I still have a younger brother who is eligible. But so are my three oldest children. I immediately wanted to spare them. What mother ever wants to see her children suffer through something on her behalf? I couldn’t even talk about it with my husband or closest friends without crying. I asked my doctor to just use my brother. She agreed to mark him down as our “first choice” but she said it would be foolish not to test the kids….After all, one of them might have a “marker” that would make the entire procedure so much more successful.

I apologize that this post is so long, but , well, today I took my 16 year old and 19 year old (home for Spring Break) in to have their blood typed. (Our 22 year old had himself tested near Chicago at the same time. Even that simple act, rushing to have it done on the same day, finding his own lab, sending it in, taking full responsibility, brings tears to my eyes…) I knew it would test my love as a mother…. My 16 year old son is so sensitive. I used to call him “Edward the Confessor” (his name is NOT Edward, but this nickname is after King Edward of England) for how he loved to sneak into my bedroom at night to confess everything that was on his heart. He always wanted to sleep with a clean conscience, and somehow confessing to me did that for him. When I was first diagnosed over three years ago and really sick, lying in a hospital bed in our bedroom, he would confess with even more urgency than usual. It both broke and melted my heart, and I thanked God every night that I was still there for him. Well, when he gave blood today—three vials, to be exact—to be typed as a donor for me, he began to feel dizzy. The wonderful phlebotomist knew just what to do; she asked him to lean back, and within seconds of his passing out (!), she revived him with some ammonia-smelling tablets that were taped on the wall just above his head. I was almost traumatized! I mean, he actually passed out!! I thought he was having a seizure or something! She said it happens all the time, and that not nearly enough blood was taken for him to actually pass out from loss of blood… But as a mother, it was tough. After all, here was my baby, doing this to save MY life!

I raged with conflicting emotions…. And a part of me, not the “mother” part, wanted him to move through this. All day long, I kept talking to him about the amazing gift of blood for cancer patients. I told him how many times I had been helped by receiving platelets or reds from donors, and how he ought to think about donating blood to the Red Cross. He looked at me like I was crazy, but I wanted to plant the seed. I know that he will do it for me, even though his first words when he was revived were, “I might not be the best donor!” Even if he passes out or is in pain, I want him to think beyond his love for me. I want him to think about the stranger that he will never meet. It is an amazing thing to save a life (I will personally never know, but my older brother, who was my first donor, signed up for the International Registry after he saved my life, saying that it was one of the single  most important things he has ever done). I want my kids to love the way Jesus loves, and to sacrifice for strangers. I know it is a lot to ask, especially from a mother who has only received and not given. But my God is a God of miracles, and I know that He can do this! And I know that whatever He has planned for my disease is for the “good of those who love Him.” And my children love Him so much! And my friend’s words keep ringing in my ears: “God is sovereign over your children.” I know that His plans for them have much more far-reaching impact than mine could ever have. Whatever His plans are, I know that they are right, they are perfect, and they are for their good.

Dear God, I trust You with all of this. I know that You have used my disease to impact so many friends and family. I know that You will use it for good. For good and for Your glory. I pray that You will use this trial to strengthen the faith of my children. Please use this disease as You will. Please heal me, and all those who suffer from cancer, and use us to spread Your glory. Amen.

Today Is As Good As It Gets

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” Matthew 6:34

I always love to hear the inspirational stories that are aired during sports programs, particularly this past weekend when the Superbowl dominated all the headlines. I was fascinated with the story of the head coaches—brothers born only 15 months apart—for the 49ers and the Ravens.  According to one commentator, their father played a huge role in their positive attitude and willingness to take risks, encouraging them to appreciate every moment and reminding them daily as he drove them to school: “This is as good as it gets!”  What I love so much about that comment is that he didn’t tell his sons this at the obvious times in life. It’s easy to feel that “life is good” euphoria when you survey the vista before skiing down the back bowls at Vail, sail on Lake Michigan, or sip pina coladas in the Hawaiian Islands. Those moments are special, but they are not a part of daily life for most of us. The true treasures of our lives are found in our daily relationships and opportunities. The gift that Mr. Harbaugh was giving to his sons was the idea that every day is filled with blessings, every day has the opportunity to become a special memory. My mantra is very similar to the Harbaugh family’s, only I stole it from the Carly Simon song “Anticipation.” At some point nearly every week, her beautiful voice plays through my mind, singing, “So stay right here, because THESE ARE THE GOOD OLD DAYS.” These are the moments and the days that I will look back on fondly as “the good old days”, even if they are sometimes challenging days. I have to resist the temptation to pine away for the past, for the way things used to be before I was diagnosed with cancer. I have to resist the temptation to ruin the memories of today by allowing my thoughts to dwell on the fears of what tomorrow might bring. As Carly sings, “I’m no prophet, and I don’t know Nature’s ways.” We don’t know what the future will bring, but we have today—THAT is reason enough to celebrate. I was especially challenged to live out this attitude during my bone marrow transplant, when I had to live away from my family for more than two months. My mother-in-law stayed with me and cared for me, and I tried to appreciate those days as a special time that I would share with her. Rather than feeling resentful that I was living in exile with the same companion day in and day out, I gave thanks to God for that time to heal and to rest and to grow closer to an amazing woman. God in His mercy had given me the grace to realize that the meals she made, the game shows that we watched together, the books we shared and the sweet pedicures she gave me, would someday become a precious memory. Sure enough, just a few months after my recovery, my mother-in-law discovered that her uterine cancer had returned, and she has been struggling ever since. I was incredibly blessed to have been the recipient of her love and care during some of the best months she may have had left. Just a little more than a year later, I can already look back on those days with nostalgia and give thanks to God. In their own way, they were also “the good old days.”

Carly sings it best: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4NwP3wes4M8

Thank You, Father, for daily reminders of Your goodness and care for me. Every day You surround me with gifts of love and friendship, and You meet all my needs. Thank You for this moment, for the life that You have given me, and for the special memories that I will make today. Help me not to dwell on the past or entertain foreboding thoughts of the future, but to “stay right here” and to embrace today. 

Why Pray When We Can Worry?

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4: 4—7

There are days when, humanly speaking, it can be difficult to find reasons to rejoice. Chronic pain, continuing illness, insomnia from medication… the list can be quite impressive, especially for a cancer patient. These are often the days when we are most likely not to want to pray. We often withdraw into ourselves and take the burdens of the world on our own shoulders, forgetting that God is there, waiting patiently to fill our hearts with peace and joy. As Christians, we always have a reason to rejoice. No matter what our circumstances, we can rejoice that we are never alone, that He will never leave us, and that He will always deliver us. If we truly believe that God is who He says He is—and He is!—then we will rejoice at the plan He has for our lives, as His way will always be best. If God is who He says He is, then He will never make a bad choice for us. Surrendering our will to His can be scary, but only if we forget who He really is. On those days when I don’t feel like praying, it helps to be still and think about all of God’s attributes. Reading the psalms reminds me of what He has done and what He promises to do. As the knowledge of who He is fills my soul, I cannot help but rejoice that I have this mighty Savior on my side. And the most amazing part is that He actually wants to hear my requests, no matter how small or how constantly I ask for the same things. In return for my cries and pleading, He gives me His peace. And as the Apostle Paul, who was no stranger to suffering, wrote, this peace of God “surpasses all understanding”. We cannot account for it; we cannot explain how we can feel such peace in the midst of such trouble. But it’s there. Just one more promise and provision from the One who loves us.

Thank You, Father, for the gift of peace. Thanks to You, I can rejoice when the world is falling apart around me. I can hand my burden to You, and I can stand tall and strong in spite of worldly pressures. You are faithful and your goodness knows no bounds. I pray for Your peace to fall upon those who need it today. Draw them close to You and wrap them in Your love. Amen.

True Solace

“He will keep you strong to the end, so that you will be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God, who has called you into fellowship with his Son Jesus Christ our Lord, is faithful.”       

1 Corinthians 1:8-9

Some of my favorite devotionals are by Charles Spurgeon. Both Morning by Morning and Evening by Evening are among my favorites. One of his writings, “A Solace for Sick Saints”, has much more meaning to those who have walked through the valley of pain and despair:

“They have grown faint, and they fear that they shall never rise from the bed of doubt and fear...”

Isn’t that the truth—physically, emotionally and spiritually—for a cancer patient! The many weeks that I spent recovering from compression fractures were spent in a special hospital bed that my husband imported to our bedroom. Each morning, I would raise myself up, inch by inch, with the little button on the mechanical bed, hoping against hope that I wouldn’t experience painful muscle spasms as I struggled to emerge from my cozy cocoon. And then there was the battle of the mind: This might be it for the rest of your life. Get used to this bed. You might never walk to the mailbox again. Just be happy you can still make it the bathroom, etc., etc… And of course, spiritually I began to doubt God. Why would You allow this to happen? You know that I have children to raise, a busy life to lead, work to do!

“…but the Great Physician can both remove the disease and take away the weakness which has come of it.” Yes, He can and He does and He has. He certainly strengthened my muscles; I’ll never forget the day I stooped down to pick something up and I could rise again all by myself, with nobody's arms to help lift me. Oh, the simple joys of life! And the hours of free time that I had to read, to pray, and to journal played a huge role in my spiritual life, strengthening my relationship with Him as well. He drew me closer to Him as He removed the disease, strengthening body, mind and soul.

“He will strengthen the feeble. This He will do in the best possible way, for it shall be “in Jehovah.””

I will always believe in doctors as instruments of God’s healing power, but there are times He does step in and personally do the work. We should never forget the experiences in our disease that cannot be explained by medicine. They are given to us as a testimony, and we should share them with others. These “mountaintop experiences” will be there to lift our spirits when find ourselves in the valley.

“Our strength is far better in God than in self. In the Lord it causes fellowship, in ourselves it would create pride. In ourselves it would be sadly limited, but in God it knows no bound.”

Our strength is so much better in God because He will never disappoint us and He is never done giving. His strength comes always at the perfect time, and often after we have learned the hard lesson that we can no longer continue by our own strength. When things are going well, I tend to give myself credit for choosing the right doctor, taking the right therapy, and using the right supplements. Meanwhile, I am weakening inwardly as I sacrifice my fellowship with the One who gives me strength. I am soon reminded that there are weaknesses and imperfections in what man can do for me; only Jehovah has the power to meet all my needs.

“When strength is given, the believer uses it. He walks up and down in the name of the Lord. What an enjoyment it is to walk abroad after a season of prostration! The Lord gives His people liberty to walk up and down and an inward leisure to exercise that liberty. He makes gentlemen of us: we are not slaves who know no rest and see no sights, but we are free to travel at our ease throughout Immanuel's land. Come, my heart, be thou no more sick and sorry; Jesus bids thee be strong and walk with God in holy contemplation. Obey His word of love.”

It is indeed a tremendous joy to “walk up and down” again after a long illness. But Spurgeon is also speaking about strengthening our hurting hearts. In those seasons when it is impossible to walk up and down physically, we have the gift of being able to travel throughout Scripture and to see glimpses Heaven on earth, through the letters that God has written to us, through the stories of his faithful witnesses, through long conversations with Him. If we focus on Him, we won’t dwell on our problems nearly so much. In fact, we will seek to do His will for us, and won’t even feel so sorry for ourselves. We will be so strengthened by our fellowship with Him that we won’t feel powerless or defeated. We will rise in spirit and with joy to live out our calling. He will do this for us, because He is faithful. May the joy of the Lord be our strength!

Thank You, Father, for the strength that You are able to pour into these weak bones. Each time I think I’m at the end of my endurance, You pour new life into my heart and I rise again. Strengthen the weak, and fill their lives with purpose and joy. I pray for the lonely, the hurting, the fearful, and all those who feel they have no life left in them. I pray that they will let You meet all their needs.

Taking Hold of Life

"They are to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share, thus storing up treasure for themselves as a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is truly life." 

1 Timothy 6:18-19

Today we heard wonderful news from a friend with throat cancer. After months of radiation and chemotherapy, his CT scan shows that he is cancer free! He has been through so much physical suffering and is still barely able to swallow even small amounts of liquid, but he stands in awe of how amazing God has been to him. Our treatments have not been anything alike, but our journeys have. By surrendering our situations to the Lord and allowing Him to carry us, we have been able to rest and heal. Our experiences are also alike in the way we have to approach every day—with hope, but not presumption. Cancer patients have an acute awareness that each season might be their last. Of course, nobody is assured that he will walk the earth next fall; but cancer patients are reminded monthly, weekly, daily--dare we say hourly?--of their mortality. We must decide every moment whether to “seize” it or squander it. So, do we call this a curse? Or might it actually be considered a blessing?

In his book The Lies We Believe, Dr. Thurman cites a study by psychiatrist Irvin Yalom who interviewed terminally ill cancer patients. Yalom learned that people who come to terms with their approaching death are more likely to:

-- rearrange their priorities and dwell less on trivial matters.

--enjoy freedom to do the things they want to do, and likewise, not do that which they do not want to.

--enjoy life in the present with “carpe diem” ("seize the day") mentality, not putting things off until after retirement or a later date.

--appreciate nature more fully and have an enhanced awareness of seasonal changes or holiday joy.

--spend time communicating more meaningfully with loved ones.

--be less worried about rejection and more willing to take risks.

It’s ironic that most of us have to experience the reality of death before we can appreciate life. So, are we who have experienced cancer more blessed by the experience than we were before? You and I can only answer that question for ourselves, as it has as much to do with our perception as with reality. But I think that most people, if they are honest with themselves, can find a blessing in their cancer, even if the blessing is that they have learned to appreciate the health they once had! My prayer is that we will not only be able to find the blessings in our situation, but also our purpose. After all, God still has work for us to do.

Father God, You know that this is not the way I wanted to live my life. This was not my plan at all! And it was not Jack’s either. But for whatever reason, You allowed this to be part of Your plan for our families. Thank you for touching him and blessing him and restoring him. Lord, Help us to count the blessings, and help us to use this cancer for Your glory. Bless those who are struggling to find peace, and help us all to live abundantly, with You and in You and through You, Amen.

A Life of Waiting

“Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.” Psalm 30:5

Our family was in serious “wait mode” after my cancer diagnosis. It was almost impossible to make any plans, whether a family vacation, a movie date with friends, or even what to have for dinner that evening! I never knew how I would be feeling, what my blood counts would look like, or how the treatment would change. Just when I thought I was responding beautifully to my therapy, my doctor told me I needed to have an autologous stem-cell transplant as the medicines were no longer working. Waiting for the transplant turned into an 11-month saga as we tried to beat down the cancer in order to make the treatment a success. The intensive chemotherapy regimens resulted in some additional health setbacks, including a sinus infection that ultimately required surgery. 

During this time, my husband changed his ringtone to John Waller’s song “While I’m Waiting”, (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H-M7oGrOa2I&feature=related) which pretty well summed up our circumstances; we could do nothing but cling to Him, wait for Him, and hope in Him. Music, prayer, relationships, and spontaneous outings kept up our spirits. After almost a year of waiting to have the stem-cell transplant, we eagerly met with my doctor to cross all the “t”s and dot all the “i”s when she told us the bad news: all the waiting, all the delays, had given the cancer a chance to strengthen. She recommended that I undergo a second transplant, from a donor this time, on the heels of the first. This meant I would not finish treatment for at least 7 more months­­—MORE waiting! 

It wasn’t until two transplants and several procedures later, a total of twenty-eight months after diagnosis, that I heard the beautiful word remission. The wait was long, but thanks to our amazing Father in Heaven, it was never without hope. It was sometimes sad, but true to His word, “joy [came] with the morning.” I was often in pain, but He never once gave me more than I could bear. One of the best gifts was learning to trust Him and being able to testify that He is indeed faithful. We never knew whether I would reach remission, or whether I would recover at all, but we did know that He would never leave our side and that He would carry us through the trial. The testimony that He gave us of His faithfulness was a precious, precious gift. We don’t know the end of the story; we don’t even know the end of this day. But we CAN know that His promises are true, and that even in the worst of circumstances, His Word and His Spirit will give us life.

Poem: “Wait” by Russell Kelfer

Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;
Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied.
I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate . . .
And the Master so gently said, "Wait." 

"Wait? You say wait?" my indignant reply.
"Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith I have asked, and I'm claiming your Word. 

"My future and all to which I relate
Hangs in the balance, and you tell me to wait?
I'm needing a 'yes', a go-ahead sign,
Or even a 'no' to which I can resign. 

"You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
And Lord I've been asking, and this is my cry:
I'm weary of asking! I need a reply." 

Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate,
As my Master replied again, "Wait."
So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,
And grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting for what?" 

He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine . . .
and He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.

"I could give all you seek and pleased you would be.
You'd have what you want, but you wouldn't know Me.
You'd not know the depth of my love for each saint.
You'd not know the power that I give to the faint.

"You'd not learn to see through clouds of despair;
You'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there.
You'd not know the joy of resting in Me
When darkness and silence are all you can see.

"You'd never experience the fullness of love
When the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.
You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,
But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart.

"The glow of my comfort late into the night,
The faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that's beyond getting just what you ask
From an infinite God who makes what you have last.

"You'd never know, should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.
Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,
But, oh, the loss, if you missed what I'm doing in you.

"So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see
That the greatest of gifts is to truly know me.
And though oft My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still . . . Wait."

Dear Lord, I am so humbled when I think of all Your good gifts. Help me never to take them for granted. Remind me every moment of every day for the blessings You have given me. Help me wait on You for all my needs, great and small. Fill me with the certainty that my rescue will always come. Your love is sure, and You always help those who trust in You. Thank You for teaching me to trust, even when it is painful. Help me to serve you even—and especially—while I wait. Amen.