If everything on earth were rational nothing would happen
from Brothers Karamazov
by Dostoyevsky
There are so many unexplainable coincidences that can only make humankind realise how little we understand. Science fiction writers with visions of man's progress and future journeying beyond this planet. The prophets of the scriptures, warning voices crying in the wilderness. They had listened for the still small voice.
Like a night sky in the Greek poem I see with myriad eyes,
but it is still I who see.
Here, as in worship, in love, in moral action, and in knowing,
I transcend myself; and am never more myself than when I do.
from Experiment in Criticism
C.S. Lewis (Cambridge 1961)
The rush hour continued, people passed the house on their way to work. Mail dropped on to the door mat, the world turned. Our elderly collie joined her master the same week but the remaining dog needed exercise. I sat in front of the television seeing and hearing the news, absorbing nothing. Silence closed in around me. I knew I had to eat but I couldn't taste and I found myself absentmindedly pouring two cups of coffee or tea. My little dog still went to the window at 4.30 in the afternoon listening for the sound of the diesel engine announcing the arrival of her best friend. I slept with my arms around his favourite jumper but gradually his special scent faded. Washed and pressed it eventually made its way into the pile of clothing handed to the homeless living on the city streets.
My general practitioner telephoned offering condolences and medication she said "just for a little while to help you through this period, or would you consider some counselling" I thanked her for her concern and politely declined her invitation. I had the greatest counsellor and I was holding fast to His promise.
Psalm 147 - 3 and 5
He heals the brokenhearted
And binds up their wounds.
Great is our Lord, and mighty in power;
His understanding is infinite.
Spring finally stretched out her hand the sun shone and the trees blossomed. One sunny afternoon I was climbing a steep hillside to a popular vantage point for hikers. A man sitting on a flat stone gazing into the distance plain turned as I approached. I immediately recognised him as a fellow dog walker who I met at regular intervals and with whom I had often had a deep and meaningful conversations as we slithered and stumbled in fair and foul weather.
He spoke "Hello, haven't seen you for a while, you okay, where's your other dog?" My mouth was twisting out of control as I fought back the tears and somehow managed to answer his question.
Thankfully the "Oh I'm sorry" that usually induced a flood of tears never came. He smiled and said cheerfully "Now never you mind my dear he's just caught the earlier bus" I will never forget that man. His words gave me hope. The Lord uses the most unusual people and circumstances to reach the hurting heart.
Eventually I would hear Joel Chernoff's interpretation of Psalm 94 (17-19)
Had not the Lord been a help for me,
my soul would soon in silence be,
when I cried "O God I'm slipping away
Your loving hand supported me.
All you've done for me,
rescued me, and set my soul free,
all my life will be a testimony
of your love for me.
Three months after William's death ministering friends suggested I returned to the evening service.
On that first night they played Phil Driscoll's recording of Soldier over the sound system. I couldn't praise I couldn't sing a note. I just stood broken and bruised tears flooding down my face.
Soldier, standing on the battle line,
finding comfort in the water and the wine.
Yet your armour still so shiny and so new
but you're dirty worn and tired
from the battles you've been through.
Soldier, standing on the battle line,
finding comfort in the water and the wine.
Though I am with you when the world keeps charging in,
I'll be with you, I'll see you through to the very end.
Later that year I sat in the evening service listening to a visiting evangelist Rauna May. This woman was a mighty warrior pastoring a church in Canada, ministering to the homeless street girls putting her own life in danger to reach the lost. She told her story before giving a series of lectures which included
the Cross Story she had apparently found on the internet.
There was a young man who felt the burden he was carrying was so heavy he didn't think he could carry on. He said to the Lord "Lord, the cross that I have to bear is just so heavy, I'd like to change it for another one. The Lord replied "no problem, just take it into the cross room and drop it off, look around the room and pick out whichever cross you want. So he went into the cross room and put his cross down. Relieved at losing the weight he wandered around the room which was full of crosses, some so high he couldn't see the top of them, some so wide he couldn't see how vast they were. He kept looking and finally he came across a tiny little cross leaning against the wall. Almost afraid to acknowledge that was the one he wanted he asked the Lord "that one - over there - can I have that little one" and the Lord answered him and said "that's the one you came in with"
Ruana continued - some times we feel the burden we carry is so heavy that we don't realise the burdens others have all around us, and we become so preoccupied with our own circumstances and our own situation, but he realised that compared to others his was a tiny burden to bear. In your hands alone it is a heavy burden, but placed in the hands of a living God it becomes light because there's nothing too great for Him.
I can still hear her gentle voice and occasionally play her tapes. None of the crash, bang, wallop, heavy make-up, jangle and bangle showmanship of the new wave order, she was truly a woman of God.
The impact of that story hit home. Blinded by my own grief I was unaware how small my cross was in a world of pain and suffering. I felt both deep shame and inspiration. The author of that simple story will never know the extent of its healing power. But I thank God for that person. Ruana will never know how she spoke into my self centred preoccupation but even if she did I doubt she would have been collecting "brownie points" she is a true servant of the Lord.
Because William's medical history was near perfect there was talk of an inquest, later reduced to an
autopsy. There was an area of medical negligence and it was suggested I obtained both G.P. and hospital records with a view to litigation. A spirit filled sister counselled "let it go, it was God's will and you must accept this" but as I had already paid a considerable sum to obtain the information I considered I might as well read through the hastily scribbled paperwork. I was astounded to discover that his original consultation with a cardiac specialist had been exactly fifteen years earlier when the prognosis had been considered unimportant and probably caused by the stress of an approaching redundancy. I remembered the incident at his bedside when I asked the Lord for another fifteen years, now it made sense. Attempting to discern the words without any intonation "you've had it" could
have meant "no way his time is up" but the toneless word "you've had it" meant exactly that. I had had
those years. They say angels collect tears, they surely had a reservoir of mine that first year,
although my cheeky terrier took on the permanent job of collecting as many as she could.
Throughout the early years of widowhood I was comforted with vivid dreams. For the first few months
I only slept for a few hours at a time. My greatest fear was that William was in that special hell of the zealot children.
John 14 - (13 -14)
Jesus said
"and whatever you ask in My Name that I will do,
that the Father may be glorified in the Son.
If you ask anything in My Name, I will do it.
Try arguing with that. I had asked Jesus to save William. In my early years of study I was taught
Ezekiel 22 (30) that we can stand in the gap for non believers. Now, more than ever, I had to believe and trust in His word.
Some tactless Christians enquired "was he saved" I could only honestly reply "he was an atheist"
and at one point where the same Christians insisted on pursuing this avenue of enquiry they were promptly silenced by my remark "Oh - so you know the mind of God"
A few months after his death I had a vivid dream. I was walking in total darkness. I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. In the far distance I saw the approaching figure of a little boy, he was golden from head to toe. The child smiled and asked "who are you looking for" totally unafraid I answered
"William" again the child smiled and said "he's not here" I awoke with a start. The dreams continued, always reassuring, always comforting and so vivid I could remember every detail.
One afternoon much later in the year I decided to call on an elder from a previous church family. She was also a widow actively evangelising the homeless living on the city streets. When learning of the death of my husband she had remarked a tad insensitively but nevertheless in love "its you the Lord wants". I told her about the strange dream and my deep concern as to William's whereabouts in
eternity and she smiled and said "have you heard the Ian Mc Cormack tape. "No" I replied "who is Ian Mc Cormack. She said "I have a copy you can borrow it, I think you might be surprised at what you hear, it will help.
As I listened to the witness of this young man I was stunned. Later I received video copies of "A Glimpse of Eternity a True Story by the "jelly fish man" as he is known. His testimony gives healing and hope that the Lord hears the praying mother and deals with some in their very last breath in answer to prayer. Far from the rampant commercialism of the "new wave evangelists" he freely gives in obedience and compliance with Matthew 10.
Now the Lord was bringing closure. Tormented by flashbacks and periods of self flagellation, I was questioning why hadn't I noticed the signposts, what could I have done better, was I too wrapped up in self, was this punishment. One particular dream brought acceptance.
I was standing beside his hospital bed with a nurse and suddenly William opened his eyes. The relief I felt was tremendous. "Oh thank you, thank you, God, he's alive" I exclaimed. As the dream progressed I realised this was not the William I knew. His personality had changed, he was irritable and depressed with ongoing treatment, warfarin medication and the dread of the mechanical replacement valve failing with all that entailed. I felt as though I was carrying a heavy burden, the intensity of the fatigue increased until I was crying out "I don't think I can do this any more" at which point I woke. Remembering every detail of the dream which seemed to stretch over months, I felt the Lord was telling me William would not have wanted this. To this day I believe at some point he was given a choice, to walk through the gate with his saviour or return to his butchered body and live as a semi invalid. I believe he chose eternity.
My personal situation was dire. Neither William's life or our home was insured, we could never afford the additional cost. I had lost the will to fight and staggered through each day on a meagre widow's pension. My family were supportive but inevitably somewhere down the line I would need to make a decision regarding our home and repay the outstanding mortgage.
For a brief interlude yet another move required my full attention. Hindsight is a wonderful thing and I would contemplate whether this decision had been made in haste, running again, this time from the pain of loss, perhaps in the relative peace of the countryside the healing could begin and although I often experienced sleepless nights and vivid dreams very gradually the gap extended.
The news my eldest grandchild was on the run sent me into a tailspin. I knew the fate of kids on the street prey to drug dealers and prostitution. She was just fourteen years old and vulnerable. Now I was on my knees praying for her safety.
That night I dreamt I was walking towards a shining figure robed in white. He stood on the top of a
circular flight of stairs surrounded by white drapes. I could not describe his face overwhelmed by the love and compassion in his gaze. In his hands he held a large piece of transparent paper, gold flattened ribbon lettering forming a script. As I approached the bottom of the steps I asked "why are the curtains drawn" he replied "would you like me to draw them back" for some unknown reason I replied "No"
perhaps I wasn't ready for what that would reveal. He pointed to the script "do you understand"
I should have said "your servant is listening please explain" but all that came out of my mouth that was
not in gear with my struggling emotions was "I do know a bit of Hebrew" and I woke with a start.
What a stupid thing to say - and what did my comment mean - what Hebrew - why did I say something like that. All I knew was the writing looked foreign. As I lay hardly able to believe the experience I could only hope that the writing meant all would be well.
The following day I discovered my granddaughter had run to her father's mother who lived close to the area where she had spent the majority of her childhood. Throughout the upheaval she was protected. I would later dream of a young girl on roller skates negotiating the hilly surface of a skate park. A man stood beside me and assured me "she will be all right" and I believed him.
The cluttered dark house at the beginning of my walk I believe was the dross that would have to be dealt with in the course of my spiritual journey, the baggage I would leave at the foot of the cross. The sensation of a body behind the wall, the sudden loss of William. The door leading into a garden beyond my wildest dreams is somewhere in the future.
In dreams I have walked through landscapes that have truly taken my breath away, found myself standing in a huge building appeared to be constructed of smooth white marble. Young people moved in and out of the many doorways leading on to spacious gardens. There was laughter, harmony, amazing peace and joy. William was there surrounded by enquiring young people. He knows me and I know him, but the earthly ties are gone, we are just children in the Lord's house. There is no sickness, no need, we can run effortlessly at great speed. He is a young again so I am resting heavily on the hope I will be transformed.
In one of our many lengthy telephone calls my daughter agreed with my view that suddenly every love song brought to mind not a human relationship but the Lord we serve. Often my commitment and belief was met with ridicule but (Matthew 5 - 11) Jesus said "blessed are you when they revile and persecute you and says all kinds of evil against you falsely for My sake. Rejoice and be exceedingly glad for great is your reward in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you" and Matthew 13 - 16 But blessed are your eyes for they see and your ears for they hear; for assuredly I say to you that many prophets and righteous men desired to see what you see and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it.
Thank you Abba for the blessing of revelation and Your promise, you are truly the wind beneath my wings.
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