The Image of Jesus

I read a news article this weekend about a woman who saw Jesus in the bottom of her iron. The metal on the bottom of the iron had discolored in the shape of the Messiah complete with long hair and a beard. I'm always interested when I read about people seeing Jesus on a potato chip or grilled cheese sandwich. I always wonder if they see Him in the daily routine of life.

I saw the image of Jesus this weekend when Paul took the time out of his busy weekend to make Qavah a rope- swing from our black walnut tree, and when he emailed a friend whose wife died suddenly last year. I saw the image of Jesus in church today when one of the church elders handed Kathryn her communion cup knowing how hard it is for her, with her visual impairment, to select her own tiny cup from the tray. I saw the image of Jesus as we went forward for communion, each of us knowing in our hearts how unworthy we were to receive the gift of forgiveness, yet the table was set for those of us who put our trust in the finished work of Christ. I think He probably gets a kick out of the "sightings" on an iron or cheese sandwich, but I am sure He takes greater delight when His image is stamped on our hearts.

Thanksgiving Musings

When I was a little girl, my brothers and sister woke up on Thanksgiving Day and we watched the Macy's parade on TV. I recall seeing it in black and white, if that tells you anything. The floats, the balloons, and marching bands made it seem like a really extra special day. Although it was a school day, we did not go to school, and Dad was home. Stores and shopping centers were closed.

Around noon we got into our family car and traveled a few miles to the home of my grandparents in Detroit. They would have dinner ready for us and we would be taken to the table for a bountiful meal. Since we were not there during the preparation time, I didn't see the boiling pots, the mashing of potatoes, and the makings of a salad. I just sat down and ate. Therefore I had no clue how grateful I should have been. Every year we had the same traditional things. I ate some unfamiliar foods that became part of my history so that my own Thanksgiving feasts are not quite the same without them. I don't know where my grandmother bought those little red candied apples, but I miss them. They were bright red in a sweet cinnamon syrup. And sweet-sour cabbage was always served as well. I tried to like it, but it made me shiver. Still there was something so pretty about the deep purple cabbage slaw that made it seem like a treat. I always wanted to try a bite. Our meal ended with pumpkin pie and whipped cream.

Kitchens were small in those days. Although people tended to have large families they seemed to be able to cook and eat in a very small kitchen. Our family was big enough that a smaller table had to be set up for us in the living room. While the adults ate in the kitchen, the children ate at the "kids' table." Year after year I hoped that I would be big enough to eat at the "big people table," as I called it. I felt that somehow they were having more fun, and I looked forward to the day I could join them.

The years have swiftly passed and I now am helping my grandchildren into their high chair or booster seats. They may have their favorite things to eat too. I wonder what they will remember of the feasting at our house. I hope they will always carry some fond memory of a warm welcome, fragrant food, festive candles, and a powerful love for them that will help them feel secure in an insecure world. And I hope they will remember that it is God Who gives us all our daily bread, and forgives our sin, and blesses us beyond measure. May your Thanksgiving feast be one that brings back fond memories for you, and also enriches your lives with new ones. God bless you one and all.

More Preparations for Cincinnati

Tonight I took a small piece of pipe and showed Qavah how a pipe was like a bone. Then I stuffed the "bone" with peanut butter "marrow." With a butter knife I showed her how something comes along and swipes away all of her "marrow." Then I re-stuffed the pipe with more peanut butter and called it a transfusion. She asked some very good questions. When we were finished with that little exercise I explained that her new doctor might want to try to find a way to keep all of the peanut butter "marrow" inside her bones so she would not need blood transfusions. She looked at me and said, "He will say get out of here knife! Stop swiping the peanut butter!"

I'm not sure I understand any of life's lessons any better than Qavah. But it sure was entertaining to have her "take" on the matter.

Sweet Sleep

I had an early morning doctor appointment for myself. This has been my first physical challenge since we got Qavah. As all mothers know "resting" with a child in the house is like trying to take it easy hanging wallpaper. It just doesn't happen to work that smoothly. But today I put a movie on for Qavah in our bedroom. I curled up on the bed and asked Qavah to wake me up if she needed anything. I gave her a sippy cup of apple juice and a bowl of popcorn. For two lovely hours she watched her movie on the bed beside me while I slept like a baby. After having a pretty severe reaction to two different antibiotics, I am trying a third hoping it will begin to work.

Tomorrow morning I have to take Qavah for a transfusion bright and early. So my plan tonight is to curl up and go to sleep early while Paul takes care of all the bedtime routine. A family is a team and when one member is down it takes all of us to keep things going. Go team Campbell!

End of the Day

It has been such a wonderful day. The girls are doing well. I felt like writing a simple poem tonight before going off to bed. Enjoy your Sabbath rest.

It's the end of the day
When all is said and done,
The work is complete
And the battles are won.

That is the time for just God and me,
When I recount the blessings He showered on me.
I felt His pleasure and saw His hand
And in the face of adversity He caused me to stand.

Sundown ushers in the Sabbath Day
The noise and activities have fallen away
I rest tonight in the shelter of The Most High
Sweet peace floods my soul as I close my eyes.

You, Oh Lord, will keep in perfect peace all those who trust in you, all whose thoughts are fixed on you. Isaiah 26:3

More than Israel has kept the Sabbath, the Sabbath has kept Israel. Ahad Ha-Am

Taking Care of Me

I had to visit the family physician today. I had been feeling lately that I should probably have a check up. It seemed like it was about time. I sat in the waiting room wondering if there was enough sanitizer in my purse to kill the germs I might be picking up. My name was called, and my first stop was the scale. "Not too bad," I thought. A slightly elevated blood pressure and slight fever baffled me. The nurse gave me a little "sample" cup and said, "You probably have a UTI." And she was right.

When the doctor came in and told me that she would be giving me some medications I had to admit that my back and sides had been hurting for at least a month. We ended the visit with a handshake and a promise from her that I would be hearing from a specialist to have my "yearly" check up. She then told me that according to her records my last yearly check up was six years ago. I couldn't believe how fast the time had flown by. While she fussed at me for neglecting myself, I quietly thought, "God has been very gracious to me." He has given me unusual strength and health for the mission He has given me. I will keep my upcoming appointments, but I also want to thank God for His sustaining grace.

Opened Doors

Qavah is going to Cincinnati Childrens' Hospital. I got a call right during dinnertime tonight expecting it to be a call from someone asking for a donation. But it was a call from the hospital telling me that Qavah's pediatrician in Roanoke had called Medicaid today and laid out her case before them. They agreed to the requests for diagnostic testing and our appointment has already been made for mid-December.

When we arrived at Bible Study tonight our friend said, "we told the Lord this morning that it was discouraging to have so many doors slammed shut for Qavah, so we prayed that He would open doors today." We know that their prayers along with others have been heard and that this is a gift from Him. We are in awe of His great love. Songs I learned in my chilldhood about His faithfulness have been running through my mind tonight. This hymn was written by Fanny Crosby. She lost her eyesight when she was six weeks old. Knowing she was blind, the lyrics take on a special meaning as she wrote about trusting her Guide.

All The Way My Savior Leads Me

All the way my Savior leads me;
What have I to ask beside?
Can I doubt His tender mercy,
Who through life has been my Guide?
Heav’nly peace, divinest comfort,
Here by faith in Him to dwell!
For I know, whate’er befall me,
Jesus doeth all things well;
For I know, whate’er befall me,
Jesus doeth all things well.

All the way my Savior leads me,
Cheers each winding path I tread;
Gives me grace for every trial,
Feeds me with the living Bread.
Though my weary steps may falter,
And my soul athirst may be,
Gushing from the Rock before me,
Lo! A spring of joy I see;
Gushing from the Rock before me,
Lo! A spring of joy I see.

All the way my Savior leads me
O the fullness of His love!
Perfect rest to me is promised
In my Father’s house above.
When my spirit, clothed immortal,
Wings its flight to realms of day
This my song through endless ages—
Jesus led me all the way;
This my song through endless ages—
Jesus led me all the way.

Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord

We have a signed contract with the government promising health care coverage for Qavah until the age of eighteen. Any testing, treatment, or medication, related to her blood disorder would be covered by Medicaid the contract said. When God decided to take Qavah out of the Foster Care System and place her in our home we didn't say, "only if the government takes care of this." It was a Sovereign God Who placed Qavah in our care. God and God alone is the giver of life, the giver of health, and the giver of all good gifts. We depend daily on His provision for our daughters, and work hard to pay for what they need.

I have been increasingly disgusted by the promises made by our current members of congress as they have been promising the American people a better-than-ever system. Although we have a signed contract with the government's current health care system, we have increasingly paid for more and more medications and services after being refused the promised care.

It is not a government "plan" in which I place my trust. They are not going to take up my cause as the financial squeeze gets tighter. It is my God Who is above all nations, all peoples, and all living things. He will make a way. While we continue to pray for the prosperity of Paul's drill business, we know that everything we have is from God. If we prosper and are able to continue meeting the needs of our girls, that would be a privilege. If He chooses to bless the girls in another way that pleases Him more, so be it. We have been given a mission to honor God by caring for two of His girls. We are dependent on Him for the "how." But our nation is in trouble because we have traded our dependency on God for a dependency on government. While the political parties of our land bicker about government funded abortions or when to "pull the plug on grandma," there is really only one solution:

If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land. 2 Chronicles 7:14.

Qavah for the soul

The word qavah means hope and patience. It is a fitting name for Qavah. Just after posting the last entry about trusting the Lord of "the process", I received word from Cincinnati that Qavah's medical insurance is not approving our trip to Cincinnati Children's Hospital. The very first thing I thought of was my last post! I trust God is going to heal Qavah. I trust Him in so many areas of my life. But upon hearing the news about the insurance I thought, "Now where do we go from here?" And a still small Voice whispered to my heart, "qavah."

I waited patiently for the LORD; he turned to me and heard my cry. Psalm 40:1

The Process

Last night at Bible Study as we were studying Nehemiah chapter eight, the subject of trusting God's process came up. In that day, Nehemiah and the people had just finished rebuilding the wall around Jerusalem in fifty-two days. The effort took the cooperation of every family member. The work was difficult as the people rebuilt the wall with a stone in one hand and a sword in the other. Their enemies hounded them. It was hard work. It was intense. There were moments of anger and frustration. All the while they worked they didn't realize that the labor and effort was a process. The process of rebuilding in difficult circumstances taught them obedience.

When the wall was finished, the Israelites gathered in the city to hear the ancient scroll read aloud. They had not heard the word of the Lord read in years. When it was read the people began to weep, repenting of the evil they had brought upon themselves. Having recognized that it was through disobedience that their lives were in such a mess, they humbled themselves before the one true Holy God and asked His forgiveness. What part of my suffering comes from disobedience?

The discussion in Bible study also led me to ask myself this question. If I trust God, can I trust "the process" He is using to draw me or a family member nearer to Him? The "process" is hard work and looks messy at times. The end is not in sight. The enemy is standing ready to point out all the failures. While our girls have their physical struggles, I am always aware that many around me are struggling as well. There are financial difficulties, marriages in trouble, wayward children, illness and disease. And it would all be overwhelming if not for trusting the Lord of the "process." There is a line of a Christian song that says, "when you can't trust His hand trust His heart." I'm hanging on to that when I have difficulty accepting "the process."