"If You Had Faith, You Wouldn't Be Here"

 "If you had faith, you wouldn't be down here," a certain person told us a couple weeks ago. He was trying to convince Jonathan and me how important and how strong the mind is when it comes to healing.

"You wouldn't be down here if you believed."

I sat back in my chair and said, before I thought, "Well! I guess that puts us in our place!"

Unbelievers.

Faithless!

Wretches!

"You wouldn't be down here at this clinic if you believed. If you believed in your mind and heart, the cancer would go away."

(This was not from any of the staff, the doctors who oversaw my care, or any fellow patients.) 

Soooo......

That was so off the wall that I didn't let it bother me. Or at least I tried not to let it bother me. But when a book sent by a friend of a friend came in the mail written by a godly preacher to whom had been given the gift of healing, and I read story after story in it of healing, I had more thinking to do. Another book had arrived in the mail with no  name attached, no idea where it came from. I opened it up and read on a page that basically if you are sick, there is some sin in your life. If you have sickness in your liver, you have anger. If you have sickness in your stomach, it's some other sin, etc.  I promptly threw the book in the waste basket. 

(Jonathan sneaked it back out later and hid it just in case we'd want to take another look at it. Maybe that was just some of the pages and maybe somewhere else in the book it would have something better to say. Maybe someone we know sent it and would ask about it and how could we possibly tell them we threw it away before reading more than a couple spots?)

But anyway, the book with healing stories was a daily devotional book, but it was more like a story book. Now you can tell me a lot of things, even things I disagree with, if you tell me true stories with it. But I was just fascinated with the messages in this book.  It wasn't preaching at a person that if you have an illness or a chronic disease or cancer, it likely means you have sin or had sin in your life. Instead it was full of stories and examples and Scriptures and true accounts of how different people availed themselves of God's promises in His Word about healing.

The book  brought out verse after verse of Scripture where healing is meant for every believer. And such fascinating stories of healing  whether instantaneous or over time--depending on the faith of the person or on how long God saw fit to test the faith.

It also told about some not healing when they could have been healed. Like two who heard the identical message. One believed and was healed immediately, the other refused and died. 

I couldn't help thinking about godly people I've known who died of cancer or other diseases. Did they not have enough faith or what? I remember talking to the widow of John Durfee who died of lung cancer after just a few years in Ukraine as a missionary. His death--was it a lack of faith when so many prayed and trusted for him to be healed?

His wife had an answer on the tip of her tongue. "It was a perfect healing," she said simply. There was no questioning, no second guessing, no doubting the way things had turned out when they prayed for healing. John's being taken to heaven was a "perfect healing."

And that answer totally satisfied me.

But I was thinking about all these things one day as I was flat on my back with a cancer treatment. (I know, if I had faith, I would have promptly jumped up from my chair in that room that day when that man told me that, and I would have told the clinic I was out of there. I was on my way home to South Dakota, and I believe I am healed! To be honest, I wanted to so badly! No more chemo or queasiness or loss of white blood cells! No more herceptin! No more weekly jabs of pain when nurses had to access my port and hang an IV tube for that week. No more tubes hanging from my upper chest and having to be tucked away inside my clothes so it wouldn't look like a tail hanging out between the buttons of my blouse! No more harsh IVs like Vitamin C and curcumin and chelation. No more colonics or gagging down handfuls of meds or trying to eat mung bean sprouts and green juice and no more hundred-degree weather! Whee! I'm outta here!) 

Instead, the day I was flat on my back, I would be getting another blood oxygenation treatment (meaning another needle poke in my vein) and then later an IV of resveratrol which always left me feeling rather terrible. 

But for now, I had some time to be quiet and still, and I couldn't help remembering what that man had said. 

And what the preacher in that book had said.

And what God's Word itself says.

And I was quite sure my faith was not very big. Maybe I was down here in Arizona because I lacked enough faith for simple divine healing. So many have believed simply and been healed. In that moment of looking at my faith, I really didn't know.

All I knew was that I did have faith.

I did believe.

Even if my faith was as small as a mustard seed. No, didn't Jesus say a grain of mustard seed? One of those teensy, itsy bitsy, wee little grains of whatever inside a tiny mustard seed.

My faith, I knew in my heart, was at least that big.

And according to Jesus, if I had that much faith, it could move a mountain!

It could move the rest of this cancer right out of my body!

I was lying there lifting my hands to heaven as if I had the cancer in my hands. I was giving my cancer to Jesus. 

And I was crying. 

I was bawling because I felt like my faith was so small, but I felt something else besides the sense of a small faith. It was the feeling of love. And flat on my back, I just bawled and said to God, "God, if my faith is small, accept my love! God, feel loved by me!"

And then another verse came silently to me, like a butterfly wafting in on the wisp of a breeze and alighting on a philodendron leaf.

"Faith, hope, love--these three. But the greatest of these is love."

If my faith is small, may my love be great. 

And there was peace.

When You Cannot Be a Singing Bird--Be a Quiet Insect

 One of those places we stopped along the Salt River Monday had some of the tallest reeds I've ever seen.

This picture was actually taken at another spot, but the idea is there. I had already taken so many pictures I hated to ask for Jonathan's phone again just to take a picture of tall reeds! (My own phone takes lousy pictures.)

But when the reeds nearest us were suddenly alive with umpteen sizes and colors of dragonflies, I just had to ask Jonathan to take some pictures for me. 

I was entranced! 

Everywhere we stopped along the way, we discovered something amazing to enjoy!

(Tip--To enjoy amazing things, simply go anywhere in nature and be ready to see!)

 We had enjoyed beautiful singing birds in the last spot. 

But this time it was quiet dragonflies!

 Dragonflies don't sing loudly or prettily.

They are quiet, but they are still beautiful. 

They don't stretch gigantic wings like the herons across the river or guzzle frogs whole. 

They don't juggle flaming swords or wow the crowd or even paddle their own canoe. 

They don't soar in the sunset hundreds of feet above Salt River.

But they do flit about on tall green rushes, doing the small, obscure duties that their Creator made them to do.

And they entrance a little lady who thinks they are stunning in their own quiet, dutiful, obedient beauty.

So even though I may not be on the highest branches singing the most beautiful song,

may I be willing to be a little dragonfly,

contented to find my place on a reed--just so long as I am doing the Master's will. 

Horse and Heron--Unlikely Friends

Monday night (I can't seem to get past that amazing afternoon and evening with Crystal) when we made our third stop along the Salt River just to see what we could see, we also planned to wade into the water at this spot where I stood in the river for nearly an hour the night I had so much pain. There were no pain jabs as long as I stood in the cold, flowing river.

 

But this evening, I was not in pain. Just weakness. I willed myself out of the Honda and down the sandy path.

And look what we saw!

Wild horses!

We found a spot along the river not already taken by others, took off our sandals or shoes and stepped right into the water,

just like the horses! 

What intrigued us the most, though, was this lone white horse, off by itself--

except it was not by itself. 

Of all things, there was a blue heron right there! 

For the better part of an hour, the horse pulled river algae of some sort out of the water and munched contentedly, while the heron stood around, watching and occasionally pecking at the greens the horse brought up, apparently finding something satisfying for itself all at the same time.

We wondered why the white horse was off by itself.

Was it bullied by the others? Segregated because of its color?

Or was it just a loner? 

Either way, it was intriguing to watch the two of them.  

I liked to think that the heron came along and befriended the lone white horse. Together they enjoyed a leisurely meal. Together they had quiet fellowship, with words unnecessary, horse's tail swishing in the breeze, heron doing its evening wing stretches.

 And as the sunset glow faded and the crescent moon rose in the west, a dad and mom and daughter standing quietly in the river watched the whole scene.

When we feel lonely, Lord, like the horse, may a friend come along to cheer us, just like Ward and Naomi French so kindly invited Crystal home for supper after picking her up at the Springfield Airport Tuesday afternoon. 

And also, Lord, when we see another lonely person, even if we are just a long-legged, big-footed, sharp-nosed and somewhat ungainly figure like the heron, may we just step up and stand beside them.

Having a meal together. Doing something meaningful together.

Being quiet together. 

And may the loners accept the unlikely friendship with grace and amazement and contentment, as the hungry wild horse accepted the presence of the quirky heron..

May God's crescent moon rise upon many unlikely but friendly duos tonight!

Crystal, Cousins, Cactus, and Javelinas

Last weekend Crystal flew down to be with me while Jonathan flew back to South Dakota to be with Danny for his birthday and to bring in more materials for some volunteers coming in to help work on our house. 

A whole batch of cousins had gone to SD the weekend before and got a lot more siding done on the house, plus flooring and more. 

This is the picture the cousins took. This side of the house shows the bottom story which is the basement, and the little loft which we made instead of just rafters--for just such times as this when a whole batch of people show up to work in SD.

All this while Mom Lucas comes every weekday to the clinic to her chair with its little pillow I bring each day to spare my tailbone that gets more and more sore as I melt down to practically skin and bones. And the soft blanket that Hope Family Chapel gave me. (I used it again today when I was wiped out from a tough IV and shaky and chilled in the air conditioning.

Crystal did all the driving for me and got up and walked with me early each morning before or at or just after sunrise.

 

I took her to our favorite trails. Monday morning we walked on Lake Overlook Trail just a mile or so away.   

Here she got a picture of Red Mountain.

And how we did love the saguaro in the light of dawn!

And we never do know what we will see. It's just important to get out there and walk and be in nature, especially first thing in the morning when the first rays of sunshine can wake up one's serotonin and one's good mood. 

But it's more than just doing your duty to get out there. 

The amazing thing is that when you simply get out there and walk each morning, you are blessed with something ever new--whether it is a fresh sunrise, a different bird, a wild creature beginning to stir right at dawn, or scenes that are ever amazing.  

 

 Monday morning, as we paused to look back at the peaceful Fountain Lake scene way down below, I noticed something moving down the hill below us. 

Javelinas!

We just knew Rose would be green with envy! She had wanted to see a wild pig so bad when she was here! So we took pictures especially for her, bless her gizzard! 

A resident saw the wild pigs and yelled and clapped and even threw a stone. 

But as for us, we were tickled to see them!

Yes, you never know what you will see on a walk with Mom Lucas!

 

Singing Birds Don't Notice the Trash

Yesterday Jonathan arrived back from South Dakota. He had to wait a while at the airport while Crystal took me to Lab Corp to get a fresh HER2 tumor marker blood test and then went to the Mesa Airport to pick him up.

(I just remembered a sweet thing that happened at Lab Corp. I checked in and the nurse at the window (whose broad, pretty headband I complimented) later called me back and thanked me for my patience--even though I hadn't really had to wait long. She mentioned my smile, and said how sometimes she has clients who are--shall we say, less than great to work with and take blood from. I shared a tiny bit about my cancer and how thankful I was that my cancer was almost gone!

"So you have a reason to smile!" she exclaimed as she rubbed alcohol on her hands, gave thanks to the Lord with me, and grabbed purple gloves. (Or were they blue?)

She gracefully jabbed the vein in my arm, claiming it was a wonderful vein, pulled the necessary blood, and told me, "You are my person today!"

I laughed, as I slid off my seat, and before I could reach for my purse on the floor, she picked it up for me. 

To which I replied that she was my person today!

So thus we blessed each other in a Lab Corp clinic in the middle of the city in the middle of a tough day for each of us. 

And then, thanks to Crystal's GPS, we managed to find our way through the buzzing streets of a Phoenix suburb to the Mesa Airport where Jonathan took over the driver seat. We decided to take our time and instead of going back to our condo to just hang out, we decided to take the long way home through the foothills. We also stopped for water, gas for the car, something to eat, and at a Goodwill. Crystal and I had a blast there, finding a few items we needed. Crystal had only one personal bag along for her flight home, but she managed to squeeze in the items she found here in Arizona.

And then Jonathan found Salt River and we kept stopping at little spots along it. I was hardly able to get around, but since the weather was a few degrees cooler than usual, I managed to get out each place and walk to the river. I was always glad I did. 

The first stop we found a spot by the river that must have been Bird Haven. 

This one looked like a bluebird, but I wasn't sure. It kept sitting on this branch above the water and looking for insects.

There was also this red-breasted bird that Jonathan caught sight of. 

I was disgusted with the trash left lying in that spot. A broken plate, cardboard, a soda can! But then I thought how not a single bird was paying that trash any attention.  

They were much too busy perching in the tallest branches of the trees, singing merrily, and going about their daily business. 

Never mind the trash that people carelessly had strewn below. 

The birds were too busy using their wings to fly high above the dirt and the trash and the mess.

Not to say the mess wasn't there, of course. 

It's just that the birds didn't pay it any mind. 

Lord, when we are tempted to focus on the trash that others strew about them (I pray it won't be us leaving the trash behind!) 

or when we can't help but notice the broken things and the dirt and the suffering and the misery and the mess,

or when our own circumstances have pieces to them that we wish weren't there,

help us to remember that You have given us the wings of faith and hope and joy--

wings to rise above the circumstances, go steadily about our daily duties, and keep a singing heart.

The Singing Tree

 A few mornings ago, Jonathan and I set off for our morning walk just before sunrise.

We love the silouettes of palm trees against the backdrop glow of dawn.

By the sidewalk these flowering shrubs had recently burst into bloom, 

 attracting hundreds of busy honeybees. 

We watched as these industrious insects hummed from one flower to another, gathering nectar.

Here was another bush where the bees were active already early in the morning. 

 

For some reason, birds were unusually active the last few mornings. Flocks of ducks and geese, or doves, or pigeons flew silouetted against the sky, wings beating the air. 

But what really entranced me was the sweet chorus of birdsong coming from somewhere. It sounded like a hundred birds singing all at once. Where could it be coming from?

Well, we discovered it was coming from this tree.

You wouldn't know there was anything unusual about this tree. You couldn't see a single bird.

The music was invisible. 

But it was there, 

sweet, happy, cheerful, energizing. 

We'd seen flocks of ducks or geese, pigeons or doves flying in circles different times,

like groups of people in the park out for their morning stroll,

only the park for birds is in the sky!

The sound we heard was the sound of beating wings.

But this time, there was music. 

Hidden music.

The singers could not be seen--until they were disturbed by our coming too close and flew away.

Lord, sometimes we who love You are just humans made of dust.

Sometimes people looking on our lives just see plain gray coats like those of pigeons and doves and ducks. 

Sometimes they see pain and suffering and disease and gray hair (or no hair) and pale faces and cancer and nausea.

But may there be those times, when despite our humble colors and the way we are hidden away in the commonplace and the ordinary

and even the ugly and nauseating and hard and painful,

they can hear the song You have given us coming out heartily in the early dawn.

May the song You have given us to sing bring cheer to the listeners and glorify You.

When we are hidden in the dust and grime of the ordinary and the hard, may our song be strongly heard!

Every Day the Clouds are Different

Every day here in Fountain Hills the clouds are different.

 

Such as during this sunrise.

 

And this one. Of course, there are the mornings and the days that have no clouds at all.

Like yesterday and this morning when the sunrise was simply a golden glow over the horizon. 

But most mornings here there have been enough clouds to make beautiful sunrises. 

"Look, Sweetheart!" Jonathan called to me, as I was admiring the sunrise in the east. So I looked behind me to the west and what a sight of clouds there was! 

And then there are the sunsets, too, or the reflection of the sunset on clouds in the east, as in this picture taken from our patio.

 It reminds me of how it takes clouds to make a beautiful sunrise or sunset.You don't get those stunning scenes when the sky is cloudless. 

"You other folk get your drama around you," I heard recently that someone in the wide open prairie of Kansas or Oklahoma said.

"Here out west we get our drama from the sky--" sunsets, sunrises, storms, tornadoes.

I also think of the words to the song, "Behind every dark cloud shines the smiling face of Jesus."

What other words can you think of

when you stand speechless before a sky scene like this one that we saw a few mornings ago?

Without the clouds, we wouldn't have seen those rays of light--

a foretaste of heaven and the return of our Savior, breaking through the clouds that hide us from a clear glimpse of His face. 

Jesus, shine Your rays of hope and love through our clouds today!

Amen.