Finding Faithfulness

I settled myself into a chair at the end of the second row, among about fifty other seniors who gathered on a dreary Wednesday afternoon. I didn't expect to begin the new year here. Life has a way of taking unexpected twists and turns.

It all began the day I took my Christmas decorations down and marched them up to the attic. I don't know how many times I climbed the stairs. Apparently, too many. I've learned to manage one bad hip joint, but when the "good" side began to buckle over the next week, I found myself in a pickle, clinging to the furniture to get around..  

A few days of taking it easy helped, yet at times I still found myself grabbing whatever chair or counter happened to be nearby. After eight years of avoiding the orthopedic office, I made an appointment, hoping a little PT would do the trick. "Bone on bone, severe arthritis, cysts," they said. I couldn't argue with the x-ray.

After much prayer, consulting with "my people," and gathering up courage, I signed on the dotted line. Wednesday's required joint replacement class taught us what to expect, physical therapy tips, and risks. I limped to my car praying,"Oh, Lord, how can I be faithful in this circumstance, this challenge?" 

How can you be faithful in your situation? 

Ironically, last month (before I had any inkling of surgery) I blogged: "Over and over, God has given me every reason to trust Him. These evidences of His power and involvement in my life help me remember and practice the truth the next time my stomach knots up and I find myself dreading instead of trusting."

I just finished reading Kings and Chronicles and have been so impressed with God's supernatural power demonstrated in overthrowing armies, changing the minds of kings, and protecting those devoted to Him. His sovereignty down to the smallest detail throughout these chapters and His faithful hand in my own circumstances have brought me comfort. No matter what lies before us, He's got the whole world in His hand! 

And really, it's not about you or me anyway. Paul, a prisoner in Rome, wrote these words: "I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel . . ." (Philippians 1:12-14). Not only did all the guards hear about Christ, but the believers gained confidence to speak God's Word without fear. 

Wherever God directs our days, we have the opportunity to reflect His light to those around us (Matthew 5:16). Because of what happened to our family in a 2003 car crash, many have read Penned Without Ink, the story of God's trustworthiness and grace in the face of trauma. Because of what happened in Barry's passing, others have gleaned strength from his legacy. 

In 2017, Joni Eareckson Tada celebrated the 50th anniversary of the diving accident that left her a quadraplegic. Because of what happened on that fateful day, Joni & Friends was born, an organization that not only gives support to those with disabilities all over the world but shares the hope of Christ. Because of what happened through years of pain and suffering, Joni's many books offer a unique depth and thoughtful encouragement. 

Battles, prison, trauma, and pain aren't experiences we would choose. Yet, like Joni, I want to walk my journey well to the glory of God. Reading the Old Testament stories along with Paul's prison experience put my surgery in perspective. Can you and I link arms with these heroes of faith and say, "What has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel."? 

Remembering Grace

Fifteen years. One hundred eighty months. Seven hundred eighty weeks. A long time, and yet in some ways, it seems like our family's car crash on the Pennsylvania Turnpike happened yesterday.

Today, fifteen years from April 5, 2003, I want to take time to remember.

Our Toyota Camry

"Remembering the crash site reminds me of an old Sunday school lesson. An angry king sent a great army by night to surround a prophet's residence. At dawn's light, overwhelming panic seized the prophet's servant when he saw the innumerable number of enemy troops, horses, and chariots surrounding them. But the prophet stayed calm and unafraid. When God opened the servant's eyes, he saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around--the army of the Lord. They had been surrounded by God's protection the whole time [2 Kings 6].

"Words cannot fully describe the frenzied scene of the pile-up on the turnpike. Like Elisha's servant, we found ourselves surrounded. Surrounded by an army of charred and twisted vehicles, shattered glass, and broken bodies. Overwhelming distress and fear seized both victims and responders alike. 

"Looking back, I have to believe we were also surrounded by God's army--an army of grace.* The fading fog. A young woman named Bethan who called us back to the scene. The lady who sat with us. The offer of a cell phone. The rugby team. The medical personnel. Grace-givers every step of the way. And the promise of God's presence in the midst of it all" (Penned Without Ink,** pages 10-11).

Sarah and Elisabeth, age 5

God's grace continued with us . . . through uncertain hospital stays, through months of grueling recovery and rehab, through the uncomfortable adjustments once we again lived under the same roof, through the job and financial challenges, and through the lingering limitations that followed us. God's ever-present guidance, even when we couldn't see Him, has brought us to a wider place, a place where we can look back with gratefulness to Him for taking care of us every step of the way.

Today is also a day to express our thanks to all who stood by with loving hearts and helping hands. Thank you for praying, for supplying meals, for giving us rides to therapy, for offering the proceeds of your garage sales, for helping with yard work and minor repairs, for sending cards and notes, and for your smiles and hugs of support. 

Through all these years, our family has been blessed beyond measure. Every day is a gift. Every challenge, still an opportunity to trust in a God who will never leave or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5). Life isn't perfect for any of us. But today, we can choose to remember grace. God's grace.

It's always enough (2 Corinthians 12:9-10).

*Grace: the divine influence upon the heart and its reflection in the life; benefit, favor, gift (from Strong's Concordance)

**Read our story HERE.

Barry and Sarah, finally home

A Open Letter . . .

As your Heavenly Father, I've noticed that you, as one of my precious children, have been sad and anxious lately. I am the God who sees your pain and your tears. I understand your frustration and desires. I see your less-than-perfect circumstances.

Because of my everlasting love for you, I allow situations to enter your life so you will grow and mature, becoming more like my Son. You see, I am more concerned about the patterns you are establishing and the process of learning to trust me than the symbols of success assigned by others or even yourself. I am working to weave positive character qualities into your life.

Diligence will always be your friend. Continue to work hard, but leave the outcomes to me. Aim to balance your work with creativity and service to others, nurturing the gifts I have given you. Respect those I have placed over you for your protection. Grace your attitudes with humility and a teachable spirit. Learn the habit of casting your cares upon me, even the seeming "unfairness" around you. My all-knowing point of view misses nothing. Trust me to write your story. There is purpose in it all.

Learn to appreciate even the difficult days. Truly believe I am in control of all things. When challenging times come your way, you choose to become bitter or better. As you move forward in life, your surroundings may change, but you will be the same. Your mindset will follow you. What kind of person are you becoming? Do not mimic some of my children who have been discontent and ungrateful. In the formative present, you are becoming who you will be in the future.

People of depth have endured hard times. Remember my servant, Peter? From a fisherman to a disciple of Jesus, to a church leader, to a writer, he understood the benefits of trials. "But may the God of all grace, who called us to His eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after you have suffered a while, perfect, establish, strengthen, and settle you" (1 Peter 5:10).
 
Even though I have given you family and friends to help you, remember to come to me with your troubles. Tell me your fears . . . your worries. I will always hear your heart. When you take time to listen to my voice, I will give you my wisdom and strength. I will help you and never leave your side.

You are special to me. I have created you just right to serve me and bless others. I have a perfect plan for every day and every circumstance. More than anything I want us to have a close relationship. I will never let you down. I will always be faithful to you. I will always hold you in the palm of my hand.

I love you, dear child,
Your Heavenly Father


Photos from bing.com/images

My Story, God's Story, Your Story

On April 5, 2003, sudden dense fog dropped out of the sky as our family headed east on the PA Turnpike. Within a matter of minutes, twenty-three cars piled up in a fiery crash that claimed the lives of four people, two of them little children. In that brief moment of time, our lives were forever changed.

Today, over 13 years later, I want to invite YOU to read our story – a personal, realistic story of trauma, uncertainty, and life-long limitations, but also of quiet miracles and celebrations. This is a story of hope . . . We all need hope don’t we? Especially when we feel the crushing blow of overwhelming events out of our control . . . when we experience pain, loss, and disappointment. Our circumstances may differ, yet deep beneath the surface of the particulars lie universal emotions that can plague us all. Even then, we have hope because of God's faithfulness. Penned Without Ink showcases God's faithfulness when my husband sustained a traumatic brain injury and my neck was broken.

This is more than just our family’s story, however. Interwoven within its pages is God’s story – biblical principles, stories, and promises from God’s Word – which encouraged us then and give us perspective now. We’ll kneel beside Job’s wife as she wailed with grief over losing her ten precious children all in one day. We’ll hold our breath with Mary, Martha, and the mourners as Jesus cried, “Lazarus, Come forth.” We’ll stand in the upper room with Thomas as he grappled with Jesus’ words, “Blessed are they who have not seen and yet have believed.” And we’ll lean over the old apostle John’s shoulder as he writes his epic work about heaven. 

The book has three elements: my story, God’s story – And then scattered throughout the book are opportunities for you to pause and reflect on YOUR life story . . . penned without ink (2 Corinthians 3:2, 3). This is where the promises of God become personal and the foundation of trust is built, trust in a faithful God who writes our stories with purpose. This is where we choose to remain the victim or become the victor. This is where we pair our emotions with truth. It’s a place of gentle challenge to finish strong and run the race marked out for us with perseverance.

If I had to summarize the theme of the book, it would be found in Romans 15:13: “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace AS YOU TRUST IN HIM, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”

Many of you played a significant role in our story. We will always remember your prayers, cards, meals, rides to therapy, and how you encouraged us and our families as we struggled to recover. THANK YOU! My prayer is that our story will be a blessing to you and bring you hope as you trust in God – no matter what happens.

Don't Miss It:

View the book trailer here (1:06).

A picture is worth a thousand words. I've posted photos that correlate with the Penned Without Ink story. Look under the PHOTOS tab on this site. They'll deepen your understanding of the story. 

Saturday, November 5th: Signing and launch at Duffy's Coffee House, 306 South State Street, Clarks Summit, PA 18411. On this day, a percentage of the book sale proceeds and any extra donations will go to the Ronald McDonald House in Scranton, PA. We'll have a good time, have some giveaways on hand, and you'll have the opportunity to meet some of the "characters" in the book. Hope to see you there!

Behind the Scenes # 3: Ready. Set . . . No?

I felt ready. Ready, after a half a dozen years, to share my journey through trauma and change--a journey I didn't choose or could ever imagine.

Helicopter Pilot, Altoona Hospital

I let my mind wander down hospital hallways, beside hushed, uncertain bedsides, and into the busy room of rehab centers. Once again, I looked into the misty eyes of my children, who had to be so brave. I remembered, with gratitude and guilt, how they and others cared for me and my husband over many months. Memories poured over me in vivid color, always with one common thread. From the moment of the multi-car pile-up, God surrounded us with His grace.

And so, with the support of my family, a few friends, and my writers' group, I began to write. But writing a book isn't that easy.

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I brought my idea to a writers' conference only to be told my book didn't have much of a chance to succeed. I needed a platform, and in addition to the story, a practical or spiritual takeaway. The next year, I brought the first six chapters of a Bible study with the themes of God's Story, My Story, and Your Story. A wonderful idea, some said, but each Bible study publisher already has a format in place. It would be better to use my themes in a non-fiction work. They even gave me a word count. But culture and markets change. I had expanded my platform and offered a takeaway, but now the book was too long.

Seven years have passed since my first attempt. I'm grateful for the advice I received. In the process, I have unwittingly and painstakingly learned the craft of writing . . . and waiting.

My story begins on the Pennsylvania Turnpike at 10:53 a.m. on Saturday, April 5, 2003. Bit by bit the chapters came together as I poured over articles, reports,  journals, emails, photos, eye-witness accounts . . . and recalled many quiet conversations I will always cherish. Each one involved in the aftermath of our car accident has his or her own story.

This is mine.

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The events unfolded in Penned Without Ink reflect what I saw, felt, struggled through, and dared pray for. At the same time, our families and friends experienced the story in very different ways, often no less painful. I could never have written this book without their perspectives, so willingly given. I carefully pieced their stories together with mine, like shards of a mosaic, to form picture after picture of our story. Even then, my book reflects only one journey of many. All of us walk forward changed, with the assurance that, even in the darkest of times. God writes our stories with purpose.

We can trust Him.

Coming Soon: My First Book - Penned Without Ink

Sudden fog . . . fiery collisions . . . brain injury . . .

  

Today marks the thirteenth anniversary of a car crash that changed our lives forever.

Back Left Side of Our Car

I am grateful and humbled to announce that Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas is publishing our family's story in a book to be released late summer of this year. 

Here's a draft of the back cover copy: 

Penned Without Ink: Trusting God to Write Your Story will draw you into the true story of one family’s journey of faith. It begins with a near-fatal car crash, resulting in trauma, uncertainty, and life-long limitations. Their experiences will lead you to sit beside hushed bedsides, observe delicate operations, and feel the angst of life and death decisions. In the midst of multiple layers of pain and loss, you will witness quiet miracles, sure and certain lights that pierce through the darkness. With pictures of both present-day individuals and biblical characters, Sarah captures the essence of hope born through her struggle to trust and rely on God. Between the lines, you will also uncover your own journey of trust. A faithful and loving God desires to write your life story—no matter what happens 

Google Images

During the next few months, I plan to do a little blogging about my book. What inspired me to write a book in the first place? Why this topic? How did I choose the title? How do I hope to benefit and encourage my readers? How long did the book take to write from start to finish? What does the publishing process look like? How does an author decide what to include and what not include in the story?  How many rewrites? What about marketing? What role do others play in the process? 

I love to learn how things work. When I'm in a restaurant I want to know what's happening in the kitchen. When I attend a play, I wonder what's going on behind the curtain. So if you're the "wondering kind" like me, I hope you'll enjoy a few posts about what I'm learning about publishing a book. And most of all, I pray you will be blessed as you read our story and explore your own journey of trust in the God who writes perfect stories.

A Song in the Night

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I woke with a start and reached for my husband next to me. Then I remembered. His recent illness had brought him downstairs to the recliner. Again, worry brought a sigh and a prayer. "Please, Lord, help him to feel better. Help us to know what to do next."

I closed my eyes to try to get another couple of hours of sleep when, from the living room, I heard Barry singing. I laid still and listened as he sang the words of an old song I taught to the girls as little children, words set to the even older tune of "Guide me, O Thou Great Jehovah."

 

God has made me very special, and I'm dearly loved my Him.   

Even though He knows me fully, He accepts me as I am. 

How I praise Him, How I praise Him,

For His wondrous love for me. For His wondrous love for me.*

 

My husband, in pain and unable to sleep, used the words of a simple hymn to bring comfort and strength to his circumstances. Isn't that when the love of our heavenly Father means the most to us?  When we feel all alone and out of sorts? When we're at our lowest and hope is ebbing away?

 

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I've thought about that song in the night many times since then. Barry had it right. Whether we're feeling the ache of physical pain or the sting of rejection or the angst of loss, how comforting to line up our emotions with truth. God loves me. He knows all about it. 

 

Since my husband passed away I often find myself awake at night, thoughts swirling every which way. "How will I take care of the house and the cars and the yard and the finances and . . . who will take care of me?"

Then, like Barry, I remember an old hymn:

 

Be not dismayed what e're betide, God will take care of you. 

Beneath his  wings of love abide,God will take care of you.

God will take care of you, Through every day, O'er all the way;

He will take care of you, God will take care of you.**

 

God has taken care of me . . . of us. This gives me hope for the days ahead.

What songs have encouraged you through the night?

 

*Words by Verna Birkey, 1977.
**Words by Civilla D. Martin, 1869-1948.

Proof Through the Night

Does your mind sometimes act like dominoes? One thought leads to another, and before you know it, you're thinking about something on another level from your original thought.

On our way home from our Michigan vacation, "up north," we passed a mailbox shaped like a little house with a tiny tattered American flag attached to the front, waving in the breeze.

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That brought my thoughts to the line in "The Star-Spangled Banner" that reads, "And the rockets' red glare, the bombs busting in air, gave proof through the night that our flag was still there . . ."

And this made me think of the "bombs" in my life that had burst all around me in the past several months . . .the sudden illness and passing of my faithful husband, the crushing grief and feelings of vulnerability, the ensuing mounds of paperwork, the never-ending list of phone calls, the flooded basement when a storm took the power out, the breakdown of our good car nine hours from home, the wringing of my hands because he always knew what to do . . . everyday reminders of the earthly permanence of this unsolicited separation . . .

Then I came to realize that these "bombs" have the potential to prove that, through the night, my faith in God is still there. Still active. Still strong. Still flying high . . . tattered and torn as it may seem some days.

I've been reading Elisabeth Elliot's book A Path Through Suffering: Discovering the Relationship Between God's Mercy and Our Pain. She defines suffering as "having what you don't want, or wanting what you don't have" (page 56). Her thoughts about the Old Testament character of Job caught my attention. "We may take heart from the suffering of Job. Suffering was the necessary proof of the reality of his faith . . . a living proof of a living faith . . . Job's suffering provided the context for a demonstration of trust" (pages 52, 53).

No matter what the challenges of life may bring, I want them to give proof through the night that my faith is still there. Visible and present, regardless of the darkness, the testing and trials, the unexplained losses. Just like the flag that inspired Francis Scott Key to write the famous lines that became our national anthem and just like that little American flag attached to the front of the mailbox along a sandy roadside up north.

A New Appreciation

Sometimes I take everyday gifts for granted . . . but don't realize it until they're not there, even temporarily. Can you relate?

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My husband's  been out of commission for a week and a half. Intense pain brought us to the ER, the primary care physician's office a couple times, and finally to the fourth floor of the hospital. The surgeon removed the pesky problem--or so we thought. It's been a rough recovery, though, which leads me to question if there's isn't more to the issue . . ..

The recliner has become Barry's bed. He's finally keeping clear fluids down . . . yet I wonder what tomorrow will hold. He has tried to engage, but exhaustion has a way of taking its toll. We miss his take on the newspaper headlines, his "living encyclopedia" answers to our questions, and his sense of humor. He can't mow the lawn and trim the yard, take the garbage out, weed the flower beds, or plant the broccoli . . . We've managed to pitch in and take up some of the slack, but we realize one thing more than ever. He does a lot around here!

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So thank you, Barry, for all you do every day--and more importantly, who you are to all of us. Please get well soon. We love you!

What gifts do you appreciate, perhaps even more because of changes in your life or in the lives of those you love?