As we continue on with this month's posts about LOVE, today's blog post is one you do not want to miss!  We're featuring guest blogger Kittie Trail today, and boy does she have some great words of insight for us.  Check out the post below to read the personal journey Kittie has walked in the past year, and what she has to tell us about loving those that are hurting.  

One year ago this month, I experienced a new dimension of hurting and suffering when I was diagnosed with Stage 3 cancer.  After a year of treatments, including radiation, two series of chemotherapy and two surgeries, I have been declared NED (No Evidence of Disease). I am cancer free!! Praise God!  I am rejoicing but also have a new understanding and perspective of those who are hurting and suffering.  I had never had much more than a cold in my life and really didn’t know what it was like to be in pain or to suffer.  The Lord has walked with me every step of the way on this amazing journey that has been blessed beyond measure.  I didn’t say it was “pleasant” or “without frustration” but very “blessed”.

Looking back over the past year I have seen the mighty healing power of our awesome God.  However, not everyone who is hurting or suffering experiences that result.  That doesn’t mean there is a lack of faith or that God can’t heal or bring relief.  He can do whatever He chooses to do.  There is a great deal of false theology floating around that says, “If you just have faith you will be healed or you won’t have to suffer”.  That does not line up with the teaching of Scripture.

In 2 Corinthians 12, Paul talks about being “given a thorn in the flesh”—he was suffering.  He pleaded with the Lord three times to take it away.  But God chose not to remove it.  Instead the Lord said to Paul, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

Did Paul lack faith?  No, Paul said, “I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardship, in persecutions, in difficulties.  For when I am weak, then I am strong.”  Strong’s Greek Lexicon describes weakness as feebleness of health or sickness.   Paul was well acquainted with hurting and suffering yet chose to “delight” in what he was going through.  He experienced God’s grace in the midst of his suffering.

When I was going through treatment, I never thought I would find myself saying, “Thank you God for cancer”, or that I would find any joy on the journey.  But somewhere in the midst of the illness and treatments, there was no other response than gratitude for God’s grace.  One of the reasons is because I was surrounded with people who knew how to love me during some of the most difficult days of my life. 

When we announced my diagnosis to family and friends, it was like the flood gates of blessings began to pour in.  I got texts, email messages, phone calls and literally hundreds of cards from all over the world.  I wanted to keep each card that arrived, so I bought a really large decorative box.  I call it my “Blessing Box” because it is full of over 200 cards of encouragement, Scripture, handmade notes, and hundreds of promises of prayers.  

On Valentine’s Day, my first day of chemo and radiation treatments began.  Special friends decorated our house with posters, cards, candy and more messages.  When I came home from the hospital, it was like walking into a room full of love. 

Four very dear sisters in the Lord who lived on three different continents managed to piece together a quilt for me. I was literally wrapped with their love and prayers.  Another group of friends showed up one day with a new chest freezer full of frozen homemade dinners.  They knew my husband doesn’t cook and that nutrition would be essential to my healing.  Flowers, more meals, friends cleaning my house and doing yard work just kept coming for 11 months.  The body of Christ showed up with a healing balm that was an amazing display of being the hands and feet of Christ Himself.  There was no other appropriate response to cancer but gratitude.

One day I was checking into the hospital for a treatment.  The receptionist always asked, “Is there someone with you?”  My sweet husband never let me go alone to a treatment.  If he couldn’t go with me, he made sure someone else was there.  I was very saddened one day as an older gentlemen came for treatment by his self.  His response to the nurse’s question was, “No, I’m all alone.”  My heart broke to think that he was suffering all alone.  I met another lady who came to treatment on the public bus, all alone.  I was never alone.  The Lord was always there, and He surrounded me with friends and family from all over the world to encourage and pray for me…..people who knew how to love when it hurts. 

Hurting usually involves some sort of loss.  Loss can come in many forms other than death---loss of a job, loss of a home and community due to a move, loss of good health, or loss of a relationship.  Whatever the loss, there is usually hurt or suffering. 

So how do we respond?

• Listen, listen, listen.  Don’t offer advice or solutions, just be there and listen. Quiet presence, especially for the sick is important.  Most of the time, there is nothing you can say to make the pain go away.  Try not to give advice or focus on your own pain. 
• Acts of kindness - Shower people with tangible blessings like meals, offers of house cleaning, taking care of children, rides to doctor’s appointments, etc. Offer specific aid that you know you can deliver.
• Phone calls, written words of encouragement or any gesture that says, “I haven’t forgotten you.”   Life goes on for those who are not in the midst of hurting.  For the hurting, often, one cannot leave their home or be involved in regular activities.  Skype or do Face Time if you can’t be there in person. Loneliness can be intense.
• Pray, pray, pray.  Don’t be afraid to ask your hurting friend, “How can I pray for you?”
• Allowing someone to vent and talk is very therapeutic.  It will help you to know how to be more specific in your prayers.  

Finally, remember to say “I love you” and your heavenly Father loves you even more.  You are not forgotten or ever alone.        
   

 

Kittie Trail has been a missionary with the International Mission Board (IMB) for the past 30 years working mainly in Africa.  She, and her husband, Randy, are on a temporary assignment serving as Assoc Personnel Consultants for IMB and live in Wake Forest, NC.  They have an office on the campus of SEBTS and enjoy walking with students and others in the area who are going the application process to become missionaries.  They have three grown sons who were all raised on the mission field.

If you're like me, you might not normally spend a lot of time studying the Old Testament. I mean, sure, I've read through most of the books and I remember learning the stories of Noah and Abraham and David as a child. But it hasn't been until the last few years of my life that I've really begun to take notice of what was actually said in the first half of the Bible.


A while ago, I was convicted about my lack of understanding about Israel and their selection as God's chosen people. The more I read through Paul's and Peter's writings, the more I realized that I needed to understand Israel, the law, and God's covenants. So I began my OT journey.

Mind you, I am a very SLOW reader. It's been a while & I'm still only in Deuteronomy! Since beginning the journey, it has been such a rich time actually taking in the words that Moses wrote to the people of Israel with purpose & reason. I've been fascinated by the storyline God chose to create for Israel. More importantly, I've been stricken with a holy conviction over the lack of true understanding I had of God's character. It's been mortifying at times to realize the amount of assumptions I formed about God's character that Scripture clearly negates. (Thank you, Father, for leading me back to the beginnings of your word!)

All of what I'm writing is leading me to this:

At the end of the Old Testament canon, we find these words written in the book of Malachi:

4 Remember the law of my servant Moses,

the statutes and rules that I commanded him at Horeb for all Israel.

5 Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the great and awesome day of the Lord comes.

6 And he will turn the hearts of the fathers to their children

and the hearts of children to their faithers,

lest I come and strike the land with a decree of utter destruction.

-Malachi 4

And then there are several blank pages. They represent a gap-a time in history (of almost 400 years) in which God did not speak to His people through the prophets as He had previously done before.



And then...enter the book of Matthew.

The book of Matthew begins with the genealogy of Jesus, the Christ. It tells us that Joseph's lineage is from the line of David. Then it tells us of the actual birth of Jesus and directly states that it was to fulfill the prophecy from Isaiah 7:14. (I'm sorry, but I’m going to fly through this story...I've got another point I'm getting to, so bear with me.) We then read of the wisemen and Herod's plot to destroy the baby King while God protected Joseph, Mary, and Jesus, and finally established their family in Nazareth.

Then, in chapter 3, we are introduced to John the Baptist.

If we keep reading through Matthew, we find out that John the Baptist is indeed the Elijah prophesied in the book of Malachi. Jesus tells us this twice: in Matthew 10:10-11 and 17:11).

Ok...hold the phone. If Malachi told me that a prophet like Elijah would come, and Jesus is telling me that John the Baptist is that prophet, then I need to pay close attention to what this John the Baptist is saying. Let's just take a second and read some of the words spoken by John the Baptist:

When speaking to a group of hypocritical Pharisees and Sadducees, after calling them a brood of vipers, he said:

11 I baptize you with water for repentance, but He who is coming after me is mighter than I,

whose sandals I am not worthy to carry.

12 He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.

-Matthew 3

And in the book of John when he sees Jesus, he cries out:

29 Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!

and

32 I saw the Spirit descended on Him like a dove, and it remained on Him.

33 I myself did not know him, but He who sent me to baptize with water said to me, "He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain, this is He who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.

34 And I have seen and have born witness that this is the Son of God.

-John 1

Let's sit on this for a few moments. Did you just "hear" what he said? He calls Jesus the Son of God! The one who's mightier than he, whose sandals he is unworthy to even carry. He is the Lamb that we've been waiting for...the one who takes away the sin of the WORLD!! This prophet promised by God in the Old Testament has come, and this is what he has said!! Could you imagine hearing better words?

When I begin to think on these things, I begin to wonder, "What should be my response?" What would your response be? Here is mine: It makes my heart want to jump for joy!! My heart becomes so full of thanksgiving that it wants to burst forth with praise! The King has come! The Lamb has come! This means that we will be rescued in full from this sin enthralled self and world in which we live and will be reunited with our maker, to live with Him forever. Our God has been faithful; He has delivered what He promised! Again, can you imagine anything better?

As I finish reflecting on these glorious truths, my heart is so thankful that God sealed the gap that seemed to exist in the 400 years between the Old and New Testaments. The time of waiting and hoping for the Messiah to come and for the prophet who would pave His way has passed. After nearly 400 years, God did speak again. He spoke through John, and then He spoke through Christ. He revealed Himself to us in the person of Christ.

Isn't it funny to think that He chose to reveal Himself again through a King born as a baby?

As we go about the next few days leading up to our celebrations of Christ's birth, remember the words of the prophet who came before the Christ. Remember the promise of God to His people Israel. Remember that the promise to Israel has been extended to you and me in the glorious truth of the Gospel. Remember that the gap has been sealed. Keep these things in mind as you approach this babe in the manger. And may your heart swell with hope and joy and the deepest yearnings of praise and gratitude. May we love this little baby with everything we've got, for this baby has changed our world!

Something that I have learned being a Hispanic, raised in Miami, is that people love stories. They love to tell them and they love to hear them. I have to admit, my husband, Leonard, is the best storyteller I have ever met in my entire life. He has this incredible ability to tell a story, whether fact or fiction, with impeccable detail and imagery that usually leaves a person begging for more. The only problem is, after knowing my husband for only six short years I have heard every…single…one of his stories at least twenty times each. And, oh how I wish that were an exaggeration. But in his defense, there are a few stories that I wish I could hear him repeat over and over again for the rest of my life. These are usually the stories that focus on salvation, grace and the immense power of the gospel. Those key concepts are the focus of my story and it is a story that I hope my husband and my children wish and hope that I too would share with them for the rest of my life.

From as far back as I can remember I have always been a “daddy’s girl”; therefore it would come as no surprise that when my father suffered a brain aneurism and then a stroke it would change our lives forever. My father survived his aneurism, but soon had to undergo the process of relearning everyday functions, such as walking, talking, reading and writing. His personality was so drastically different to the point that even his laugh had changed. He had become this person that barely resembled the man I grew to know and love. Therefore as my father spent the next few years adjusting to his new life, I spent those same years trying to figure out how to get by without the deep relationship I was longing to have with him. 

Even though my family and I were actively involved in a local Catholic Church I found myself drifting further and further away from God. As more and more time had passed I became bitter and angry with Him as I blamed Him for all that had happened. I began to search for companionship in all the wrong places. I dated as many guys as I possibly could and shut my parents out of my life as much as possible. By the age of fourteen, I had gotten into my first what I would have considered back them to be a “serious relationship” and became sexually active. It was around this time that I began to experience various symptoms of depression. I began to eat less, I continuously felt fatigued, I was constantly getting headaches and having digestive problems, I would sleep excessively, I always wanted to be left alone, and I was overwhelmingly consumed with suicidal thoughts. 

The depression began as sadness and soon grew to grief until it reached utter despair. I couldn’t explain the source because most days I didn’t know where it came from. I remember feeling so consumed with anger and sadness that all I could do was release the pain in any way possible. It was around this time that I began to self-mutilate. It started off small, as simple scratch marks on my arms, but would eventually lead to hundreds of cuts that would cover my legs, arms and torso. 

It was in the middle of my freshman year of high school when my mother took me to my first visit with a psychiatrist. Within a week, I was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder and severe anxiety. And just a few weeks later my first “serious relationship” ended when my boyfriend decided to break things off with me. Just a few weeks later, I attempted suicide. I consumed over fifty capsules of Tylenol mixed with alcohol and just about any other medication I could find in my parents medicine cabinet. As I rested in a hospital bed later that evening I overheard the doctor tell my parents that after everything I consumed that evening there was no reason why I should still be alive. And in my bitterness and rage I found myself asking “Why?! Why am I still alive?!” I then spent the next two weeks in the psychiatric ward at the local children’s hospital where I was diagnosed with clinical depression and was quickly put on medication and given nothing more than mere coping mechanisms. 

Upon returning to school the anxiety began to set in to the point where I could not get through a day without having several panic attacks. Each one began to feel more unbearable than the last. It felt as if someone had cut off my ability to breathe and I was left gasping for just the smallest amount of air. I was told that the medications were meant to help alleviate those feelings, but most days they only increased the symptoms. Needless to say, my depression only worsened as I began to realize that no one could sympathize with the “psycho girl,” which is what I soon became known as at school. So I searched again for love, but yet again in all the wrong places. 

I became more sexually active than I was before and dated several guys, but with each let down I spiraled deeper and deeper into hopelessness. I began taking razor blades to school so that I could cut myself in between classes and I would often come to class with blood seeping through my clothing. About three months after my first suicide attempt, I attempted suicide again when I tried to cut my heart out with a razor blade. It was not long after this that I was admitted yet again to the psychiatric ward. At this point I was more sad than angry. I could not understand why this darkness was not lifting and I felt like no one could see, feel or understand this immense pain. I was longing for attention and desperate for love. 

By the end of freshman year I had started dating someone new. This relationship would last four and a half years and although it was a good relationship, it still did not fill the void of loneliness. For the last three years of high school I still struggled with self-mutilation and depression and I carried these things with me into my college years. In my sophomore year of college my boyfriend ended our relationship and it was almost as if I had gone back to being that lost and broken little fourteen-year-old girl again. The depression and anxiety came back with a vengeance. I was more angry and bitter than I had ever been before. So of course, yet again, I went looking for love in all the wrong places. I dated as many men as I could and just bounced from one relationship to the next hoping to fill the void that so desperately needed to be filled. 

At the age of nineteen I met a man who was different from the rest. His name was Leonard. We met at a college party and became friends instantly. At that point in time, Leonard had only been a Christian for one year, but he was visibly and passionately on fire for the Lord. We began dating and within a few weeks I began attending church with him. Although I was receptive to what I was hearing and learning from the pastor I was not ready to change my lifestyle. I was consumed by my fleshly habits and was afraid to drift away from those parts of my life that had become a source of comfort. I continued to self-mutilate and my depression continued to manifest itself through my words and actions. At a time when most people would have run away out of fear, disgust or confusion, Leonard stayed. Not only did he stay, but as I would find out years later he spent almost every day those first few months of knowing me praying for me and for my salvation. This is why I can say that in that time of helplessness, Leonard was the best earthly representation of Christ that I could have ever encountered. 

I spent the next month and a half struggling to let go of my sin. My self-mutilation had become a source of pleasure and relief, yet every time I sat through a sermon I was burdened by the pangs of conviction. I knew that I needed to let go of those things and put my faith in something steady and strong. It only took two months for the Lord to get a hold of me and shake my heart to the point of confession and repentance. I do not know the exact moment that I was “saved” or the exact time that I put my faith in the Lord, but I do remember the day that I was baptized. When the pastor put me under the water and recited these words: “Buried with Him in baptism, and raised to walk in newness of life.” On that day, something inside of me changed and the Lord began to do a miraculous work in me. By his grace, I spent the next two years consuming and learning from His Word. I became actively involved in our church and was given the opportunity to minister to children and their families. I fell in love with and married the amazing man who demonstrated Christ-likeness to me when most people were too afraid to even try. And I learned how to bow down in reverence to the God who extended his grace and mercy when I least deserved it. I struggled with depression, anxiety and self-mutilation for seven years, but that is nothing compared to the eternity I will spend with my precious Lord and Savior.  

1 John 5:9-13 says, “If we receive the testimony of men, the testimony of God is greater, for this is the testimony of God that he has borne concerning his Son. Whoever believes in the Son of God has the testimony in himself. Whoever does not believe God has made him a liar, because he has not believed in the testimony that God has borne concerning his Son. And this is the testimony, that God gave us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. Whoever has the Son has life; whoever does not have the Son of God does not have life. I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God that you may know that you have eternal life.”  

This is the message of my testimony, that through the Son of God I have been given life. We, who were once dead in our sins, can come before the throne of grace in complete humility and receive forgiveness; therefore it is on the saving work of Christ that my story is built. 

The impact of my story has nothing to do with anything that I have done, but everything to do with what God has done through His work on the cross. Therefore my testimony is not merely my story; it is ultimately God’s story. My story is all about Him. He creates. He restores. He redeems. He is the story!

Over the years there have been several times when I have heard the words of that doctor ring in my ear, “There is no reason why she should still be alive.” I understand now why I lived and I believe that part of that reason is happening right now, in this very moment. I believe that I lived in order that I might share my story with all who are willing to hear in order to bring glory and honor to the One who saved me and gave me new life. 

Reblogged from (in)courage
February 28, 2012

So many times I run from you. So many times I hide from your perfect will in my life.

So many times you bring me back.

Ive been sitting here this morning having my quiet time, drinking my coffee. I love mornings like this, where I can sit and soak up my time with the Lord. Lately I have been questioning a lot about my ability (or inability) to fully trust Him. To have complete relinquishment of myself.

My head gets in the way of my heart.

I want my life to not only serve Him, but I want it to be a fragrant offering to Him. There is so much I can’t do on my own. So much I cant overcome on my own. Yet He still stands there waiting for me to ask Him for his hand. Its so very hard sometimes to honestly believe that someone else knows what is right for me. It is hard for me to just sit and wait for His will, yet when I do, life holds so much more peace and joy.

Worship is my heart.  I want really to worship Him.  I want my life to be a pleasing fragrance. I want my worship to be so enveloped in awe and adoration that those around me gain a true understanding of the personal and emotional relationship they can have with a loving God. I bow my pride before Him and pour my veil of worship out. Even in the midst of my ugliness and my vileness, He still longs for that personal relationship with me.

It is what I was created for.

Pouring out my heart. Why is that so hard? Why is it so hard for me to show Him the areas of my life that he already knows exist? Why do I think that I can hide things from an all compassing, all knowing jealous God?
I confess now my selfishness, my pride, my longing for the things of this world. I humbly lay down my life in front of him- like I have done so many times before. I give him my life.
Actually, I give him back the life he gave me.

Have you ever wondered what it feels like to have absolute abandon?

Have you ever been in a place in your relationship with Christ where you feel so completely out of control of everything, yet so at peace? I long for that, I long for the relationship with Him that causes me to completely release my grip on my life. I long for the realness of just crawling in His lap and laying my head on His shoulder like a child does.

Complete and utter trust.

Christ is not a lofty God sitting way up there, looking at us way down here. He isn’t waiting for us to sing a hymn and light a candle. He doesn’t care about our rituals, He isn’t impressed with them.
He created us for the relationship. He created us for His joy. He created us to worship Him.

He created us to be REAL.

Sunday mornings are meaningless to Him if they are lathered up in shiny offerings of pride. He wants us to cry with Him. He wants us to share our darkest and most hurtful moments with Him. He wants us to understand that our relationship with him was meant to be intimate, emotional, honest.

He longs for those moments with us

Heather is a brain cancer survivor who lives life on the edge. She loves her family, her bald head and, most of all, her Savior’s grace. She lives in the sunny yet very humid state of Florida with her husband, three children and 2 dogs, a miniature schnauzer named Bailey and a Boxer named Max. She homeschools her two oldest children. Her youngest child, Emma Grace went to be with Jesus on April 22, 2011 after a long and valiant fight with a transplanted heart. She was 9 years old. Heather blogs about her trials in raising Emma Grace as well as her own personal journey with cancer and faith. Her motto is "It is not about the hair, Its about the heart..."

Reblogged from "girltalk" a blog by Carolyn Mahaney
by Nicole Whitacre

Each year we make New Year's resolutions for things we want to change, but we also have New Year's hopes for things we can't change, but wish we could. We long to receive certain desires of our heart that seem elusively out of reach. And maybe, just maybe, we will see those hopes fulfilled this year.
When I was single, I hoped for a husband. Maybe this year, he will come. I imagined myself married by the following New Year, or at least engaged. Maybe the New Year was holding my future husband in the wings.

God eventually gave me an amazing husband, but new hopes still sprang up with each New Year's Day. When we lived in a teeny apartment, I wanted to move to a bigger place. When I experienced secondary infertility, I wanted to have another child. Maybe this year.

I'm sure you have hopes for this year. They are probably whatever you are thinking about right now. But in her book, Keep A Quiet Heart, Elisabeth Elliot encourages us to focus on the most important of New Year's hopes:

“Will the young woman find a mate? Will the couple have a child? Maybe this year will be the year of desire fulfilled. Perhaps, on the other hand, it will be the year of desire radically transformed, the year of finding, as we have perhaps not yet truly found, Christ to be the All-Sufficient One, Christ the ‘deep sweet well of Love’” (page 49, emphasis mine).

This year, let us ask God to dissolve all our hopes (however good they may be!) into a single hope: to know Christ and to be found in Him. May this be a year of desire radically transformed, a deeper, truer, knowing of Christ as our All-Sufficient One.

“But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord” (Philippians 3:7-8a).