Refining Fires
Psalm 66
(10 & 11)
For you O God have tested us:
You have refined us as silver is refined.
At some point I realised that I had picked up my cross and that this was not going to be the path of the prosperity preachers. Mark 8 - 34. Jesus said "Whoever desires to come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me".
A steep learning curve lay ahead. An unexpected and vicious attack in the work place interrupted the afterglow but I dealt with it in a professional manner. I literally turned the other cheek and that in itself resulted in my being subjected hence forth to dark glances and stoney silence. Perhaps that was just a blip on an otherwise uneventful year.
In the autumn of the second year William arrived home earlier than usual. I was preparing the evening meal and turned to greet him as he appeared in the doorway. I immediately knew something was wrong. "They've lost the contract, I'm out of work again" disbelief etched his tired face. "Never mind" I replied "you don't have to work, we can manage." As he walked out of the kitchen he said "I'm not sitting on benefits, I'll find something else." I continued to organise the evening meal with a heavy heart. We were so very close that we would think and speak at the same time, the same words and I knew he was so very disillusioned.
My mind was turning over the implications thinking here we go again. What happened next was virtually unexplainable and why when I tried to share this experience did I think it was a man's voice, not audible, but nevertheless very real. He spoke "I will look after you Talitha". It wasn't what he said, it was the way he spoke my name. My legs went like jelly and I grabbed the side of the sink for support. Throughout my whole life I had never heard my name spoken with such amazing love, to use a modern euphemism, it was mind blowing. I kept this experience close to my heart and felt I was certainly not alone, whatever lay ahead.
William always appeared healthy other than a minor scare at the beginning of the recession which was fully investigated and declared unimportant by a senior cardiac consultant at the prestigious university teaching hospital in the North. The day he collapsed emptying the morning rubbish into the company refuse container at his new job was obviously the exception and the resultant emergency admission to hospital with severe abdominal pain was promptly blamed on the broccoli he had eaten the day before. Antibiotics dealt with the condition and he was soon back at work.
My admission to the local hospital for yet another operation followed. Hospital bugs happily waited in the theatre for my arrival, I rarely left having escaped their attention. I was always the last to be discharged and I was running true to form. I was duly informed of the extra expense involved dealing with the offending infection to say nothing of bed blocking.
The loss of a very precious little dog who had been the centre of our family for over fourteen years followed. William was devastated and would not be consoled. My daughter arrived with a print of a painting by the artist Margaret Tarrant depicting Jesus surrounded by birds and animals, she explained that the Lord had placed it on her heart to buy this to comfort and encourage me.
I found a space on the bedroom wall and proceeded to hang the print. William said "it's a pity it isn't true" Feeling his pain but knowing he was beyond comfort I merely replied "it is true" Ecclesiastics 3 - 19-21 Man has no advantage over animals for all is vanity. All go to one place.
I add my own footnote here because before we left the area a woman reported seeing a little black and white dog following me into my office. She did not know me personally or the fact I had lost my precious little friend six months earlier.
Three years has passed and I could almost hear the beat of war drums as documentation arrived from Head Office assuring me that under the re-organisation I had been appointed in post, with double the work load. The company proceeded to make many loyal managers with a lifetime's service redundant. My contract of employment had been breached and discussions with my union representative assured me I had a very strong case. Advising head office of my intent I received a swift visit from a very unpleasant young man who suggested that any attempt to so do would result in their making things very unpleasant for me as they had excellent solicitors in London. I couldn't believe I was actually being subjected to verbal threats in my own office. Their tactics directly affected my decision. I didn't want to spend the final few years of my working life in that environment. I applied for voluntary redundancy and we made plans to return home.
At this point I was considering the fate of Job and wondered how long it would be before I developed a severe attack of boils.
William had returned North to check our home and found our property had been trashed and the letting agent had no intention of releasing the £700 held by him to cover damages. Apparently they were his friends and he suggested they needed this for a deposit on a mortgage. The agent knew we were in no position to get involved with heavy legal fees and we found ourselves cleaning, repairing and replacing the damage.
Six months after our return I found myself once again in hospital. I was rapidly moving up the list in the Missing Parts Club. Once again I succumbed to a theatre infection and William arrived eager to take me home only to be sent away with a warning it would probably be at least another four days before I would be fit for discharge.
William was now sixty and his employment prospects were virtually non-existent. The unemployment was even worse in the North, even minimum wage jobs were scarce. A relative kindly offered him a job more out of support than the need to fill any vacancy.
Throughout the convalescence period that followed I was waking in the early hours with verse flooding my mind. I had no idea where this originated. Initially I would go back to sleep meaning to scribble it on a piece of paper in the morning but when the morning came I had forgotten the content. William suggested I keep pen and paper by my bedside. Strangely he never questioned this bizarre habit and actually encouraged the activity.
One morning as I lay propped against my pillows sipping an early cup of tea I blinked in amazement at the plain magnolia painted wall opposite my bed. I clearly saw a small brilliantly coloured picture depicting a Roman soldier. Vivid red garment, breastplate and helmet, shield and sword. It flashed on the wall and was gone virtually in an instance. My daughter said "its a warning".
The following Sunday evening we accepted a lift home after a particularly lively evening service. It had started at 6.30pm and as the vicar vanished out the main doors laughing he said "they don't want to go home" It was 10.30pm and people were just sitting in the pews soaking up the outpouring. We were still discussing the service as the car approached a steep hill. Suddenly we were overtaken on the inside by 4 x 4 off-road vehicle, the impact pushed our car into the path of the oncoming traffic.
Fortunately our driver reacted instantly and pulled hard on the wheel. If the approaching car coming down the hill had been any nearer we would have been in serious trouble. Sitting in the left rear seat I sustained a whiplash injury. The other passengers were somewhat shaken but nevertheless they took time to pray for the distraught driver who was saying "I don't know why I did that, is she okay" over and over again. Eventually he was calm enough to continue his journey.
I was now realising it was time I took my hands off the wheel and let the Lord do the driving because so far I was still trying to get through one crisis after another in my own strength. Time to let go and let God.
The rest of the year passed quickly by and as autumn approached I took a temporary secretarial contract in the city, perhaps now we could finally move ahead. I had joined the membership of the local church and was supported throughout by spirit filled Christian friends who offered encouragement. I would later realise that one very special sister in the Lord had been involved with the circulation of the Rheinhart Bonkee booklet that had initially started my Christian walk. Once again the waters were calm, we had a roof over our heads and food in the cupboard. Christmas was approaching and I was looking forward to my daughter's visit over the holiday.
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