Uplifted in a Broken Down World

It was an extremely rare, cold, Fall day in Florida. Shivering from head to toe, I was standing outside the Cancer Center, waiting for my brother’s car to be brought down from the garage. A Grandma-Grandpa couple, leaning on each other, braved the cold and stood beside me. Immediately, they captivated my heart.

The Grandma brought flashbacks of my own Grandma. Her calico farm dress and hand knit sweater could have come out of my Grandma’s armoire. I’m not a betting woman, but I’d wager her nylons were rolled over a garter. There was a pure, of this earth, grace about her. Her husband was bundled in an over-size farm jacket. However, there was not a doubt in my mind that his country britches were suspender adorned. Standing side by side, they were a refreshing breath of life, rooted in sowing and reaping crops of seed-sprouted, soul food nourishment – as opposed to present day manufactured take-out for sole convenience.

Noticing their chilled to the bone bodies, the volunteer doorman walked to their side and suggested they might want to wander about thirty feet and stand under the outdoor heater, while waiting for their vehicle. The Grandma’s eyes popped wide open, and in amazement she declared that while she had once seen this rare invention on TV, she had never seen one in person. She was thrilled and up to the short jaunt to examine the phenomenon in person. Her husband, too frail to walk even one step beyond necessity, released his grip on her arm and told her to go see it for herself. The steel bollard, on which the handicap door switch rested, filled in as his lean on crutch.

My eyes and heart followed Grandma as she ventured into exploring the marvel of this big city, luxury innovation. She was like a youngster visiting a candy store. Awe, amazement and appreciation burst forth from the core of her being. What I take for granted became God granting her the blessing of experiencing the miracle of finding warmth in a very cold world. A tear trickled down my cheek as I realized the true miracle was this Grandma and not the outdoor heater.

Grandma didn’t dally under the heater. That would have been selfish, and she was rooted in selfless. Eager to share her exploration and committed to resume supporting her husband, Grandma quick stepped back to her better half. As she recommenced her support position for her loved one, she exuberantly exclaimed “that contraption makes you downright warm.”. Grimacing in pain, near collapsing in weakness but grateful in heart and soul, the cancer-stricken Grandpa avowed, “everything and everyone at Moffitt makes you warm.”.

No longer do I find myself making weekly trips to Moffitt Cancer Center; but forever, a part of my life’s journey will be warmed by the many children of God who crossed my path during my visits there with my brother. They, each and every one, melted the cold of our world, too often, frozen in ice.

A new dawn finally broke through the darkness. As the child of God woke from the nightmare, the broken pieces of her heart, hope and dreams were strewn across the rock-bottom chasm in her life. There was only one direction to go. She knelt down knowing, with God, she was going to rise up. With what she thought was nothing left in life, she was ready to trust God and begin the journey to move onward and upward; for God never abandons any one of His sheep in a briar of life’s struggles.

However, before pulling her out of the brokenness, God gifted her with a “SACK” and spoke: “My daughter, before I lead you forward, you must collect the fragmented pieces of your heart, hope and dreams and safely secure them within the “Sack” I have given you. Though, at this moment, your heart, hope and dreams are remnant pieces, they are not forever destroyed. Pick up the pieces before shaking the dust of the explosion from your being. Then, walk away from the past and into the future. Abandon the nightmare destruction, but never abandon the core pieces of your heart, hope and dreams. Your heart, hope and dreams are not dead. You merely need to carry the fragments and journey to where I can help you bring them back to life. True loss and defeat are not “soul”y that at this moment your heart, hope and dreams are shattered but solely if you would walk away without picking up their pieces and carrying them with you into where I will lead. What, today, I tell you to gather into a “SACK” and not leave behind; I also, tomorrow, will enable and empower you to put back together. Failure is not when your heart, hope and dreams are torn into pieces. It is only when you fail to gather the pieces and carry them along as you follow Me and journey to where the pieces will be put back together.”

The SON does break through even the darkest of nights. My prayer is that as each of us, at one time or another, awaits the SON’s light, our hands are holding our God gifted “SACK” full of the collected fragments of our heart, hope and dreams. For God will lead us out of the hole of brokenness to where our heart, hope and dreams can, and will, be miraculously whole again. Forever remember, that while God blesses us with our heart, hope and dreams, He also gifts us a “SACK”!!!!

It’s been a year where frill has given way to necessity, adornment to basic. As the HOLYDAYs approached, my festive decoration remained boxed up in storage, except for one countertop staple — a tiny wooden CHRISTmas stable. Doesn’t matter how different this year is, one reality remains the same. The celebration of our God given, Baby Jesus Savior brightly dawns, regardless of any, and all, deep darkness.

This day, three of my young grandchildren will drive ten long hours to visit. In years past, this Grammy’s house has always been decked out with garland, glitter and glowing lights galore to welcome their loving hearts. A few days ago, I began to question this year’s less than festive abode. Should I do a fast and frantic “get the house ready as usual” re-make? Instant answer came from God, not this wanting to “make magical” Grammy intentions. No, I would not camouflage this year with holiday garnish. It would be highlighted by revealing, not hiding, the true meaning and message of CHRISTmas. It was time, and my honor, to instill this gift in my young grandbabies’ souls. My miniature wooden creche, alone, would deliver this great tiding of comfort and joy.

The lesson to be shared: Baby Jesus was born on earth and opened the Gates of Heaven so we could live forever with God. On that very first CHRISTmas night, only God’s light illuminated the way to meet Baby Jesus. This year God carried one of our family members up to the open Gates of Heaven and welcomed him home. Just as God’s light was the sole marker of Baby Jesus’s arrival on earth, this Grammy has chosen only the guiding soul light of Baby Jesus’s manger to celebrate our loved one’s arrival into Heaven. Heaven, alone, is the truest, “best-est” and most precious and sparkling gift ever given or received. This year, Grammy’s house is not wrapped up in holiday, earthly festive appearance. It is unwrapped in God’s HOLYDAY, Heavenly Son.

The saying goes: children learn what they live. My grand-little-ones will be learning and living the true meaning and message of CHRISTmas this year. No better daily life, or eternal living, gift could ever be shared.

Quietly and unassumingly, a visitor entered the hospital room. Though the room was dimly lit, this man, a complete stranger to me, seemed illuminated by God’s Heavenly “Ray”. His demeanor was humble. His loving concern for my Brother was celestially assertive. While I did not know this man, I deeply knew of the “God made Man” whose presence he represented. My sister heart prayed “thank you, God, for sending my Brother the present of your comforting presence.

Empty handed was not the way this “Ray” from God arrived. His palms clutched the most paramount gift God has ever offered man — the Bread of Life. Explanation relates this God sent “Ray” was carrying his daughter’s gift to both my Brother and all of our family surrounding him. Seems this daughter’s specialty, her God given talent, is making homemade bread. My observation adds the proclamation this “SON”beam daughter fed, not only, hungry tummies, but also, starving souls.

I could not help but feel affirmed that the nourishment delivered was not of man, but rather, of God. Worldly man would have sent an entire, ribbon wrapped loaf. God’s “Ray” and His “Son”beam daughter first broke their loaf and then shared. “The bread that we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread.” (1 Corinthians 10:16-17 ESV). “For I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when He was betrayed took bread, and when He had given thanks, He broke it, and said, ‘This is My body, which is for you. Do this in remembrance of Me’.” (1 Corinthians 11:23-24 ESV).

A piece of broken off bread was the last morsel of food my brother hungered for and of which he, eagerly, partook. God’s “Ray” and “SON”beam daughter fed my Brother’s cancer decayed, human frame the eternal Bread of Life.

On that very first Christmas night, a bright light in the sky marked the SON OF GOD’s birth on earth. 2,024 years later, God’s “Ray” and “SON”beam daughter, from earth, illuminated the final steps of my Brother’s birth into Heaven.

This Christmas morn heralds “Joy to the World” as my Brother is a “Sleep in Heavenly Peace”. No better messengers of these tidings could God have chosen to deliver His Christmas Bread of Life than His “Ray” and “SON”beam daughter. My heart is grateful and my soul abundantly nourished. May any, and all, who share this post, also, break and partake of the Bread of Life — God’s, first and foremost, CHRISTmas gift to each and every one of us on earth.

The only life I’ve ever known or lived has revolved around my heritage, both my Italian and Divine. Recently, I’ve been newly awakened to, and appreciative of, this blessing. I possess what is the rarest of treasures. This richness was not gifted me from the outside but rather seeded inside me. The first seed was sown by my Dad, at least weekly, bringing me to visit my grandparents, Nani and Nana. Out of love, not obligation, my Dad showed (over told) me the unmeasurable wealth of possessing “Family”.

As the years passed, the blessings of having, holding on to and handing down “Family” to future generations was not only stamped forever on my heart but, also, eternally engraved in my soul. For you see, my Dad not only gifted me the fortune of my earthly “Family”, he insured that I, also, inherited the eternal treasure of being a grateful and honored member of the “Family” of God. My Dad’s car, with me inside, not only weekly drove the path to Nani’s and Nana’s front door, it also carried my Dad and me to the entrance of my Father God’s “Family” home – Church.

My Dad was a devoted son to Nani, Nana and God. I witnessed my Dad’s love of his “Family” as his top priority and most valued accomplishment, possession and legacy. No greater heritage is there than belonging to my “Family” on earth while also be longing for my “Family” membership in Heaven.

Let the world, and worldly, boast about material ownership. I choose instead to reap the “Family” harvest my Dad seeded in my heart and soul.

Driving away from Moffitt Cancer Center, my mind knew it would not return. My heart and soul knew it never would leave. It had been one of the most difficult weeks of my life. Tears engulfed me, not because of forthcoming death but because of the present of lives. My sobs were not of despair but born of witnessing mankind as God created His children to be – even in the face of impending death.

My brother, his son and I arrived at Moffitt late Thanksgiving night. My brother was admitted. His son and I were committed to staying both the course and the nights by my brother’s side. What I had not anticipated was that as the page of Thanksgiving was turned, Dollar Store bells would ring in the most powerful Christmas gift – love.

The rooms, floor, halls and elevators of a cancer center are overflowing with beautiful people suffering an ugly disease. Every race, religion, and socio-economic level, side by side, are pummeled by an enemy that weapons, too often, cannot eradicate.

My heart was heavy and my soul weary the morning after Thanksgiving as I rode the elevator all the way down to rock bottom and the hospital cafeteria. As I trudged toward fueling my body, Dollar Store bells rang out. Entering the pit stop for bodies hungering for more than a meal, my soul found nourishment whipped up in God’s personal kitchen and served by God’s personal angels.

The check out ladies were adorned in Dollar Store bells. Their wrists, necks and headbands, embellished in the sound of Christmas, brought smiles to faces weighed down by fear and sorrow.

Who were these women whose hearts were reaching out to downtrodden souls? Judged by the world they are not rock star performers, upper echelon society or reigning leaders. Weighed against God’s Word, they are Our Heavenly Father’s servants who personify “…whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of Mine, you did for Me.”. Matthew 25:40 (NIV)

As I approached one of the Dollar Store belled servers, tears streamed down my cheeks. I expressed that she truly fed more than cancer families’ stomachs. She fed their hearts and souls. Hugging this very special child of God, she squeezed me back and whispered, “We may not be able to spread Christmas joy, but we can give all Christmas LOVE.

Days later, as the cancer center was escaping my rear-view mirror, tears again were streaming down my face. Though my heart was deeply missing Moffitt’s Dollar Store belled ladies, my soul would forever hold them close. Cancer is horrendous, but in its midst, God had blessed me with Dollar Store bells that all the money in the world can’t buy.

Often, I have interchanged the Hands of God and the Arms of God; but are they really the same. In yesterdays, my mind would have argued yes, both are the same. Not today. My heart and soul now witness and fathom they are not carbon copies, conceived (and meant to be perceived) as mirrored duplicates.

The Hands of God are actively creating, changing and carrying out missions, mercies and miracles. The Arms of God embrace and holdfast, when human lives cannot be rescued and released from injustice, suffering and earthly death.

God’s Hands did not change the worldly wrong of Christ being crucified. God’s Arms did steadfastly embrace our Savior as He endured the agony of death, so eternal life for us could be achieved and received.

We exist in a world where God’s Hands, at times, perform works of supernatural healing. However, in all moments of inexplicable suffering, though His Hands seem frozen in inactivity, God’s Arms are hugging His pain ridden children with Supreme love, comfort and mercy.

When our human eyes do not see God’s Hands at work, may our hearts and souls believe and trust God’s Arms are holding us close, comforting us and enduring our pain and anguish with us.
May we forever cling to the shortest verse in God’s Word, when we most need to feel God’s Arms embracing us and carrying us and our emotions, fears and tribulations. “JESUS WEPT.” John 11:35 (ESV).
As we go through our most grievous suffering and God wipes away our tears, let us always remember those tears not only fall from our eyes but also from Christ’s. God is with us. He deeply cares. God’s Hands may not be at work, but His arms are holding us and will never let go.

Emotion was high. Once more, my brother, sister-in-love and I were sheltered in Tampa’s Embassy Suites (6th floor this time) as my brother sought weekly treatment for aggressive blood cancer. Nicholas had early morning testing, followed by a scheduled blood transfusion. Suzanne knew he needed to eat. She asked if I would please fetch him at least the one item he normally agreed to try — a blueberry muffin. After a long night of praying God would keep carrying my brother and send me a sign to guide the way, I was grateful to escape the room’s somber atmosphere and fetch possible enticement for my loss-of-appetite brother. Little did I anticipate God was about to open more than a door to breakfast. The door to “soul” food was about to take flight.

After unlatching the numerous locks with which hotel, stronghold doors are equipped, I swung open the fortress. Startled, shocked and stunned in disbelief, my stroll stopped, and my speech shrieked, “It was bigger than my palm?”. My sister-in-love, now concerned we were being attacked, blurted out “a cockroach?’. “No”, I retorted. “Then what?”, she interrogated. All I could bounce back was “it flew directly at me, made an arc across my heart then soared straight up and disappeared.”. Suzanne deduced and declared, “a bat!”. She slammed shut the door and contemplated our escape.
“No” not a bat”, I assured her; but her logic calculated there was no other explanation. Anyone who knows me knows “illogical” best describes my life. This instance at hand further affirmed this conclusion.

As Suzanne stood stalwart at the hotel’s registration counter trying to alert management that their iron clad fortress’s sixth floor was breeched by a “bat”, I retreated inward. I heard God asking, “what did you see?”. Once more, the first thing out of my mouth was “it was bigger than the palm of my hand.”. God continued, “And…?”. I uttered, “Its wings were like a butterfly’s.”. “Go on,” God urged. Closing my eyes, I pictured what, just minutes ago, flew toward me. I added, “Its color was sandy. A glitter gold thread was woven throughout. The wings were transparent with filagree patterned from end to end. A light streamed from its wings as it passed before me. The wings never flapped. They just soared.”. Finally, God inquired, “What, my daughter, did you witness?”. Confidently, I answered “to the world, maybe, a mutant moth; to me, definitely the Holy Spirit.”. Leaving the Embassy Suites Hotel that morning, my sister-in-love’s and the hotel staff’s minds were in worldly frenzy. My soul was settled in God’s deep peace.

Eight days later my brother, sister-in-love and I were back in Tampa. That very morning, as my car carried my body to Tampa, my soul prayed for God to befriend my brother with one of His cancer warriors, who could bring inspiration and renewed fortitude to my brother’s heart, soul and journey. This sister, though her closet be filled with footwear, was incapable of filling all shoes. My brother’s need was a footprint that had walked the steps of his current uphill trek.

Debilitated, downtrodden and disillusioned, my brother slumped in the chair into which his frail structure had collapsed. Gazing at his worn and torn body, fear entered my being. Medicine could transfuse my brother’s body, but not his heart and soul. I cried, “God, my brother needs YOU.”.

At that very moment, a stranger appeared in front of us. He introduced himself as Curtis. Continuing on, he shared that though it might seem strange, he felt compelled to approach my brother. His pancreatic cancer battle had been startling, even to what the doctors were accustomed. Curtis now felt God calling him to begin a ministry befriending and walking beside others as they fall prey to cancer and pray to God’s healing heart and hands. My Father in Heaven answered my morning prayer!

Since these two God-incidences, the nightmare of my brother’s cancer has not become a different story. However, one Almighty and Powerful force in this saga, GOD, has regained center stage spotlight.

The Moth — “but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.” Isaiah 40:31 (ESV)

The Man — “Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41:10 (ESV)

God trusts us to listen and carry out His purpose through the individual talents He created and seeded within each of us. Vice versa, we trust God as we endeavor to carry out His call on each of our lives. However, do we ENTRUST the outcome to God, or do we fall prey (instead of pray) to trusting ourselves to accomplish everything through our wisdom, our power, our action and our effort.

If God trusts us enough to assign us a purpose, aren’t we supposed to confidently see our hands carrying the assignment through to completion? Absolutely, not!!! We are to see God’s Hands, not ours, as the means of accomplishment. Our hands are merely puppets on a string, being steered and controlled by the puppeteer — the Hands of God. Too often, we humans take pride in God trusting us with His work. Instead, we need to ENTRUST God to achieve His work by maneuvering us in a way that results in His mission being attained.

There is an additional insight into trust and ENTRUST which we would be wise to ponder. We trust God to solve our problems, but do we ENTRUST God with our problems. To trust, often, centers on trusting for a positive desired ending. To ENTRUST God with our problems is to rest in His peace, no matter what the end result is to be. If all a child of God knows and practices is trust, then when their faith is worldly shaken, it is possible for them to turn and walk away from God. If God’s child understands and lives by ENTRUST, then when their faith is worldly shaken, they rest in knowing God will never walk away from them.

Mine is the prayer that you, me and all God’s children stand not only on trust but also kneel firmly on the rock-solid foundation of ENTRUST.

Lately, I’ve found myself not only coming and going but, also, bumping into myself in the middle of coming and going. I doubt I’m alone on this collision course. Children of God, everywhere, are on this same burdensome treadmill. Wait a minute!! Instinctively, I penned burdensome. Does not Scripture guide me otherwise?

“Come to Me, all you who labor and are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30 (NIV).

My soul having been refreshed by these verses, my mind entered conversation with God. This daughter of His, needing revelation and re-routing, God minced no words in delivering His aha moment. Both a light bulb and enlightenment went on when God filled my being with His fundamental inquiries.

Am I running ragged doing God’s work for me or my work for God? Do I even know and understand the difference? Let me declare, since I needed to even be asked these questions, I obviously was not scoring a 100% on my answer sheet.

What God was wisely helping me comprehend is His work for me will never exhaust my heart and soul. However, my self-proclaimed work for God, most often, will exhaust my body. What’s more, my self-decided work for God is not even what God is calling me to, needs me for, or even wishes me to do. Plain and simple, this child of God (and probably all children of God) needs to let God create and assign His list (not my list) designating the work I’m called to do for Him (not the work I’ve personally chosen to do for Him).

Choosing to do God’s work for me over my work for God does not translate into never being pushed beyond my physical strength or an eight-hour workday. What it does promise is that God’s strength will carry me, sustain me and refresh me when I endeavor to answer the call of His work for me. My work for God carries no such guarantee. If God calls me to it, He will carry me through it. If I call myself to it, my own efforts often fail to get me through it.

Not possessing divine knowledge, how best can we decipher God’s work for us from our work for God? Prayer and accepting and adhering to its answering guidance best solve this question.

Our human plate gets overloaded when the “work meal” handed us by God is supplemented by servings of our own added “work desserts” that we surmise God surely wants and needs but just forgot to put on our plate. We all need to ask ourselves if we are starving to stuff ourselves with our work for God, or are we well nourished by the food of God’s work for us? The former will wear us down into a grave. The later will lift us up to the heavens. The “starving to stuff” or “well nourished” choice is each of ours to make.